Pariah
by The 483
Summary: With a war raging across the world in the wake of the events of the breaking of the Kirkwall Circle, Seeker Cassandra Penderghast is on a quest to find exceptional people who could help end the war.  Disappointed by the lack of help provided by Varric's story, she prepares to move on.  But can the dwarf provide aother possible clue to the Champion's location?  FINISHED
1. Pariah 1

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

**I just adore Merrill, so I thought, what the hey. (Literally.) I am thinking I am using my "Transport to next game" overall build, but I may throw in stuff from others, since I haven't started that play though yet. Skinny of it, though, Male Hawke, Warrior, Merrill Romance, sided with Mages at end of the game.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

**Pariah**

Cassandra Shook her head sadly as she let the Dwarf go, he hopes of preventing more bloodshed evaporating. She emerged from the Hawke Estate and was quizzed by the Orlesian Seeker.

"Any leads?" She asked, her accent dimmed by the years in Ferelden following the Hero.

"No, he is gone." Her despair was evident, but Leliana thought she detected a twang of something more. She said something about the Maker, and Cassandra gave the proper response back, but her mind was elsewhere. It was not easy when hate turned to respect, and then getting your hope crushed all in one evening.

She was walking back to her suite in the rebuilt Chantry's barracks when she walked by a Dwarf leaning against a pillar without paying any attention. He made his presence know.

"Excuse me, Seeker." She instantly recognized the voice she had been listening to for the past hours. She stopped and looked up. Varric continued before she could speak. "If it were to happen that the Chantry's forces were to achieve victory in the coming war, how would you treat the mages, in general, were it your choice to make?" She thought for a full minute.

"I like to believe, after the hearing you account of the Champion, that I would try to find a better way than the Templar Order to protect the people from the threats." She gave the only answer she should, as the tale did make it seem as if the oppression of the Mages by the Templar was as much to blame as the mages themselves. Varric glanced about shiftily before pulling a large envelope from under his duster.

"Thank you for your honesty. Here." He handed her the satchel. "I cannot say where Hawke has gone, but he did set up a number of dead drops locations, so we all could communicate if the need be." He grinned. "This I received about a year ago. I doubt it will help your search, but it does help provide corroboration for certain events, and may give you another… perspective on the Champion."

"What is it?" She asked.

"You will see. I would not be the only one who would appreciate if you kept it to yourself, however. Good luck in your travels, Seeker." He hesitated, then shok his head and through up his arms as he walked off. "May the Maker watch over us all, because this is going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better.

Cassandra was in her own temporary quarters, heavy armor striped and in her own night garments before she climbed on her cot and opened the satchel. Inside was a leather bound book, small, and embroidered in silver plant designs. A few sheets of paper was sticking out of the pages. She pulled them out, and saw it was a note penned in green ink in a tight, well practiced and flourish scrip.

_Varric:_

_Hope you are well. I am sorry to say that we are moving again. Isibela is heading back to sea, and I asked her to drop this here. I do not know where we are headed, But Hawke said it would not be a short trip I believe it had something to do with rumors of the Hero of Ferelden, and his disappearance with the Daughter of __Asha'bellanar, so we may be headed to Ferelden._

_As you always seemed to collect stories, I thought you would be the best person to give this to. It is a copy, and I will contiune my own, and if any are found in other drops, I have instructions to forward them to you if possible._

_Your Friend, Merrill._

_Also, Hawke says the first rounds are on him at our next junction, your info was solid."_

Cassandra was wondering why the Dwarf had not reveled this during the session, but the she saw the second note, shorted, and written in different hand.

_Varric:_

_Came back to Kirkwall just long enough to drop this off. Need a new Drop established in Tevinter. Something is up with Merrill, and we are going to see what is going up north. Depending on the state there, may move into Qunari territory. I've attached the possible locations, and will get you word when I can. Here's the coin for the drink I owe, it's going to be a long time coming otherwise._

_Cheers, mate, Hawke."_

Cassandra reread each letter, puzzling over it, and then as a small note left under the book in it's wrapping, in a third script.

"_This was the last note, 8 months ago, no word since."_

She figured it was Varric's and addressed to her, and flipped it to see a few lines in Hawke's writing.

"_The climate is not good. A storm is coming. We are going to need to stabilize, or the Blight is going to seem like a light rain compared to this. Send out feelers, find out who we can trust, DO NOT TAKE SIDES. We need friends. Hawke."_

She didn't like the tone of the last, and briefly though this might be the Dwarf putting trust in her. She didn't quite know why, but she didn't want to let him down. She put the notes aside, and opened the cover of the book. The first page was blank except the neatly printed and centered words:

"The Personal Diary of Merrill, Elven Pariah."


	2. Pariah 2

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

**I am actually doing this as I play through the Campaign as a Warrior, so I will hopefully be done near the en of the week. I think I will separate it by major events, rather than Chapters, but we will see. **

**This Chapter is done completely as if you were Reading from the Journal, everything is, as it would be from Merrill's small fingers. Each break is a separate entry, and I'm not even bothering attempting to date them, just know that they are in Chronological order as the story progresses.**

**Oh! And just to avoid confusion, I use Templar as both singular and plural, like fish.**

***Update* I think I figured out something the site wouldn't delete to seperate entrys.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

**Pariah**

I was given a shack in the place known as the Alienage within the walls of the city. It is astonishing, there are so many Elves here, but it is without the closeness I saw within the clan. It is so crowded, but so lonesome. Inside of the structure, there are rats, everywhere and filth wrapped on everything. At least with the holes in the roof, I am not cut off from the sky at night. Oh, I do hope it doesn't rain.

The male human of the group that took me from Sundermount, he promised he would come and visit my…hovel soon, and I must clean this place. I do not want to suffer more embarrassment like I did when he, the Dwarf, and the female mage departed. I must start, right away.

()

I did not believe he would, but he did come. I don't think I made any big mistakes, too! Hawke showed up, and knocked on my… well, let's call it a door, for want of a better term, because rotted plank doesn't sound too good. So I let him in, and he looks around as I thank him for coming. He said that I was cleaning it up nicely, and that he enjoyed the rats. (I went around after he left and sealed more holes.) At this point, I believe I began to make a fool out of myself.

"If you really wanted to thank me, I can probably think of something." He said, but I was not sure what he was talking about. He then asked me a bit about my life in the Clan, before I thanked him for his time, and saw him out.

Interacting with humans is so difficult. I hope I can learn to do it correctly before I make him hate me. I also need to start figuring where to set up the pieces of the mirror. Hmm, maybe in the corner by the table…

()

Ugh, I went with Hawke and his friend, the city guard Aveline to the Wounded Coast to kill some mercenaries. Blood everywhere! And, with no running water near the house, I have to make local trips to the well in Lowtown before I have enough to wash myself properly. What have I gotten myself into?

()

I spent some time with Hawke's Dwarf Friend, Varric. He is a very friendly person. He was talking for half an hour always to this person called Daisy, but I could not find her. I knew Bianca, because he introduced her, but still I could not figure out who this other lady was. So finally, after one of his stories, I inquired.

"Varric, who is this Daisy you are talking to?" He looked surprised, and then smiled a sly smile.

"Why, you are, Daisy." I felt my face go red, but he did not seem to notice, ordered another drink and asked what I would like to hear next, The Tale of The Warden, or The Witch of The Wilds.

I left his home, referred to as "The Hanged Man" soon after, and promptly got lost. Eventually I encountered a fellow elf, and after some confusion, he gave me directions back to the Alienage. I think I am really making a mess of things here.

I was out at the "Pub" with Varric again last night. Out of nowhere, he asked me a question.

"So, I hear you got lost on you way home the other night, Daisy. You know Lowtown isn't the friendliest place for pretty young girls at night, right?" I flushed, embarrassed that not only had I gotten lost, but that Varric knew of my failure. I began to try and explain, with a number of false starts and stammers before he cut me off.

"Don't worry about it, Daisy, happens to the best of us. Here." He walked away, and came back a minute later, carrying a large ball of thin twine. "I'll walk you home tonight, and the next time you leave your house, tie the end of the twine to the outside of it, and then unreel it as you go to where you need. On the way back, simply follow the string while looking for landmarks and you'll know you way around in no time."

I get to try this first thing tomorrow morning, as I need to go to the marked and purchase food. Lucky for me Hawke shares a portion of the coin from each trip I take with him; else I would have starved by now!

()

Varric called us into the bar in regards to the pending expedition into the deep roads. I have been pushing Varric for some stories, but all he had were a few old tales of the Paragons. Hawke talked details with Varric while I sat and listened quietly. He outlined some information that he had received from one of what he referred to as a contact. I was not paying full attention, as Varric had left his half full cup of grog unattended. I had inquired as to what grog was, and he simply indicated his own drink.

"The stuff they serve here isn't good enough to call swill, and much to foul to be proper beer, so it is grog, Daisy." He had not allowed me to try it. Watching both him and Hawke, I reached out and grasp the flagon, and began moving it closer. I had drawn it to me when Hawke placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Sorry, Merrill, but now is not a good time for you to get drunk. We're leaving." I surrendered the brew, to Varric, who emptied it in a single long draw. Hawke got a disgusted look on his face. "Varric, how do you drink that rot? I've seen chamber pot with more desirable content." Varric shrugged his shoulders.

"Hey, it gets the job done and I can afford enough that I can stand to look at your mug." Hawke shook his head as we followed him out.

Maybe Dwarves and Humans are simply mad?

"Where are we headed?" I asked softly, not knowing if I should have been listening in the pub.

"Sniffing out a Grey Warden, if things go right." Hawke called over his shoulder. I like the thought of that. I met a Grey Warden once, back in Ferelden before the Blight. A man known by the Keeper, and of considerable prestige, even among the Dalish. This was back in the time when an unknown human would have been killed before even getting in close to our settlement.

He was impressive, the straight, serious way he walked, the old, kind eyes, and the way he didn't seemed to see us all as equal, or even above his own. I remember well because I was startled. I had never seen a beard before, and though some animal had attacked his face. He came and asked me what was the matter I told him, as even without the Keepers warning, he would have commanded respect. He did not laugh, but smiled kindly.

"That is not an unusual reaction, even among the city men." He said, before moving on.

He came to our keeper, Marethari, looking for possible recruits to help in against the Darkspawn in the battle of Ostagar. Sadly, we were not able to provide him with any assistance other than guarantee of the honoring of the treatise, should another blight ensue.

Thinking back on it now, Hawke reminds me of Duncan, in the way he stands, and the way his eyes shine. Hmm… I am very much looking forward to meeting this other Warden.

The Warden turned out to be a healer, helping out Ferelden refugees in a dilapidated clinic in the old city, called Dark Town. I cannot see the sky, and it makes me uncomfortable. He is a mage, named Anders, and he said he once had a Darkspawn fighting Cat, named Ser Pounce-A-Lot. I didn't know Cats could become Grey Wardens too, but The Wardens do tend to keep their record to themselves.

This Anders man, agreed to give us a map, showing entrances to the Deep Roads, if we helped him rescue a fellow mage from the Templar in the Chantry. Hawke agreed, but I do not know if it was because his sister is a mage, or need of the maps. He said he would meet with him outside the Chantry that night.

After leaving Dark town, it was still some time before dusk, so Hawke let us go, telling me to meet him and Varric at the Hanged Man shortly before dusk. I walked home, intent on fixing a meal and looking through my books on the Eluvia. I wonder, if a cat were a Warden, would it were a dashing hat to show its status? Oh, I bet it would have a feather in the brim, just like those rogues in the story Varric told me!

()

It was an absolutely crazy night! I arrived early to the Hanged man, having gotten nothing from my reading, to discover the Guard, Aveline, waiting for Hawke. I said hello, and she returned the greeting, looking worried.

"What is the matter?" I asked, attempting conversation. She looked at me strangely, but I do not know in what manner of strange it was.

"I think theirs something up with the Captain, and I'd like Hawke to check it out with me."

"Oh, I sure he won't mind." I don't know what made me say it, but it seemed right, and Aveline seemed calmed slightly by it. A few minutes later, Hawke and Varric walked in, and Aveline explained her problem.

"Alright, that is actually on our way to Hightown, let's check it out." He said once she'd finished, and he hitched up is armor and turned around, with the three of us following.

In an alley in Lowtown, right around the corner from the Hanged Man, we found the Guardsman we were looking for, ambushed by a number of Carta thugs. Hawke had killed the first before he was even aware they had been found. The following fight was short, but messy. I guess it is well that I did not wash my robes before leaving tonight. Hawke carved through the resistance with eager ease, broad sweeps of his sword, large strides, and good form. I was still playing over his moves, and had o be prompted twice to look, red faced, in the satchel the guard carried. In it were not orders or the other things a guard would be expected, but Lists and other things, including the Seal of the Viscount, which would not have been good if in the hands of these thugs

Aveline left, supporting the wounded Guard, with the intent to bring this evidence straight to the Viscount, proving the Captain of the Guard was corrupt.

She is… frightening when she is angry.

After this, we headed to the chantry, and followed Anders in to meet his friend. They made that poor man a tranquil! And then used him to lure us, well, Andres mostly, into a trap. We were jumped by Templar, and the most startling thing happened.

Anders is possessed! Well, possessed isn't quite the right term, as that when a Demon, such as Pride or Sloth or Desire takes you body to use in this world. He willingly shared his with a Justice spirit, which while not bad, still is not something that would be good, necessarily. Even more, the spirit was actually warped by Anders own hatred of the Templar, and altered. I have never heard of a spirit being manipulated in its purpose by a Mages will. I will quiz Anders about this later. I do not want to bother him with it now, as he chose to end his friends life, instead of leating his poor sould continue as a Tranquil.

After leaving Dark town, Varric commented on his need to pass out, and Hawke offered, well, ok, insisted on walking me back to my door, as, for a small female like myself, the streets of Lowtown were not safe at night. Regardless of the reasoning, I appreciated the gesture.

A night out with Hawke is certainly exciting.

()

I find myself lying awake tonight. I had a discussion with Guardsman Guard Captain Aveline last night, and I inquired as to if she fancied Hawke. She was genuinely surprised.

"Why do you ask that?" I was slightly curious to that myself, but it had been around my thoughts a lot lately.

"Well, you came all the way from Lothering with him, and you aren't even in the same clan." She continued to look puzzled.

"Humans don't have clans, Merrill."

"I know, that's what makes it so impressive. Why would you ravel so far if you didn't fancy him? I think I do." I did not know that I did think that last part when I said it, but it rang true and sounded right. Aveline shook her head wearily.

"I came, because the Hawke's are my friends, and friends look out for each other."

"Am I your friend too? I asked, already aware I was acting like a fool. Why when I get in so deep, do I always make it worse?

"Of course you are," she said levelly, "why else would I be standing here, talking about how you fancy Hawke with you?" A smile crept across her face, a smirk. I recognized it as it was as Varric had described it.

"When someone says something to you that gets you red in the face like when you have to much ale, and then smiles, like this," he demonstrated, "that is smirking. You ask me to explain some hard things, Daisy."

Well, I could tell by the heat I felt that I must have been glowing like raw Lyrium!

"T-Thank you." I stuttered and then walked quickly off, covering my face in my hands. Ohh, I hope she doesn't say anything. Do I like Hawke? Or was my mouth just making a fool of me again. Argh! There is no way I can sleep now! I really hope she won't say anything. Why does my stomach hurt?

**End part to. Now, I'm going to look this over before I post, because, the site doesn't care how long I spend formatting and checking this in word, it just slaps it up however it wants. But if issues with separations in the entries are difficult, or more likely ignored, hit me with it and I will try something else. Oh, and I use the standard Hawke face, not sure if that matters, or if I referenced it above.**

**Thanks for sticking it out, if you got this far, crap, forgot what I was talking about… um… damn, where's filler when… Oh! ok, got it. These first are going to cover a lot of in game stuff, as I am using it as an event template for intros and such, do I don't confuse myself later, hopefully. Later, I'll make up more of the "between" event's stuff, and let me say, I am looking forward to Isabela's entrances, and her interactions, especially after the romance scene in game.**

**Good night, all.**


	3. Pariah 3

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

**People keep reporting grammar errors, but other then run ons that are run ons because of dialogue or description, I have no idea what you are talking about. I actually looked at it as I was Re-editing in the Fan fiction program before submitting. So please, if you have specifics, tell them to me and I will try and correct them! (Word is not helping, really!)**

**And,if the errors that everyone refers to are continuity, I have trouble with first person when I'm pumping out ideas, so Sorry. But if the problem is in tense, let me point out, it's a young girl recording her thoughts, they are going to be all over the place.**

**Only a two hour time tonight, lets see where it take us.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

**Pariah**

Hawke came by this afternoon, with a job he wanted my help on. I suppressed the swoop I felt in my stomach, and said that I would love to help. Then I felt foolish at my exuberance, but he did not seem to notice, and for that I was grateful. I think. We left, gathered Varric, and killed some time at the Bar until night

We hit the Lowtown Market just after dusk, looking for a Dwarf named Anso. He was there, examining the floor with great intent. So much so that he did not notice us approach, and was startled badly. Why are Dwarves afraid of he sky? The sky is lovely, even if you can't see it well from Lowtown. What's strange is that Varric is a Dwarf and he isn't afraid. Anyway, Anso gave us his task, to recover some goods that some smugglers stole, who had it stored in a hovel in the Alienage.

Long story short, an ambush was waiting, and was easily dispatched, followed by ANOTHER ambush outside, larger than the first. The goods he sent us to recover were not even there! Varric had some choice words he wanted to share with this Dwarf, but he never got the chance.

As we were leaving the Alienage, the commander of what I found out later were Tevinter Imperium slaver came out and started in about how he was going to kill us. I am always surprised at how many people don't like Hawke. I mean, I like him… never mind.

The point of this entry, however, is that as he ordered his men to come and do their job (namely, to murder us,) a elf with a large sword came up behind him and… STUCK HIS ARM THROUGH HIS CHEST! The strange thing was that there was no hole. I know, I checked later. He then told us his name was Fenris, and he was an escaped slave running from, or pursuing the Magister that had owned him. I never got that part straight. If I had ever been a slave, I'd imagine I would want to simply run as far away as possible. But I don't think I need worry about that while Hawke and Varric are around, at any rate.

He then told us that that he had used the Dwarf to seek assistance in assaulting these slavers. He searched the bodies, and discovered that the Magister… Dennis? Aquarius? I don't remember… was in Kirkwall, and asked for Hawke's assistance again. Hawke agreed after a little discussion.

I am constantly baffled by the way he makes decisions. Fenris tricked us into an ambush, and he repays him by helping him hunt down his former master. I wonder why. Maybe he likes elves? I hope so! But with my luck, he just really doesn't like slavers. Not that slavers are good. Oh, no, I'm babbling…to a book…

We went to Hightown and swept the Mansion Fenris indicated, but the Magister was gone. He left plenty of Shades and Demons for us, though. After we found him missing, Fenris went outside, while Hawke and Varric looted the valuables. When they finished, we went outside as well.

Fenris looked at me with disgust, and made a rude remark about me being a mage, and his not being aware if it until he saw us battling inside. He called me a viper and made some other disparaging comments, and then ignored me and talked to Hawke. What a jerk. The designs on his skin are pretty, though. I wonder how he got them?

()

I think I have made a new friend today!

I was at the Hanged Man, and Varric was teaching me the value of not drawing on a small strait when a commotion at the bar drew our attention. Three large men were harassing a svelte brown skinned woman wearing a blue bandana. Hawke walked in just as this ruckus was starting. I waved, but he didn't see me. The woman did not need his intervention however, as she proceeded to beat them senseless. After that, she urged the leader to leave, at dagger point. She then engaged Hawke in conversation, and Varric called me back to the cards.

A few moments later, Hawke brought her over and introduced us to her.

"Varric, Merrill, this is Isabela." I nodded, and Varric cocked his brow.

"And what menial task does this…" he looked her up and down, "Rivaini wish us to do for her?" He said with a mocking smile.

"With her." She said, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm supposed to duel this man over a valuable relic I... misplaced, and that the idiots I just chased out could not find. I do not trust Hayder to play fair, so he," She hooked her thumb at Hawke, "is going to watch my back."

"I'll bet he is." Varric said it slowly, while looking to Hawke. It must have meant something I did not understand, for Hawke got slightly offended.

"Shut up, Varric." He said. "So, would either of you like to accompany us.

"Sure!" I said, a bit more forcefully then I intended, which drew her attention. She gave me a sultry smile.

"Aw, thank you kitten."

"Why not?" Varric groused, "It's not like I have anything better to do at night other than help strange women I just met kill people."

"Hey, after were through, first round is on me."

"Why didn't you say that earlier? When do we leave?" He was being sarcastic, as his voice did not change. As far as I knew, he was just playing cards with me that night. This bussiness did seem the better option, though.

"Meet me with Hawke in Hightown after dusk. Thank you." She turned and left, Hawke told us when to meet him, and Varric ordered another pint.

"So, No shit, there I was, in this Lowtown alley, stripped to my under shorts and surrounded by Carta thugs." He shuffled the cards as he started his next tale. I wasn't paying to much attention, though.

She gave me a nickname. That means she likes me right? Oop, it is almost time to meet Hawke, I'll let you know how it goes when I get home tonight.

()

Oh, creators, my head. My mouth taste like Halla dung and my head feels like it's going to explode. I think I threw up.

Ok, so after I met Hawke and Varric at the gates, we went into Hightown. Isabela was waiting by the Chanter's Board. She was worried, because the person she was supposed fight had not shown up. No sooner did we, then a group of mercenaries ambushed us. I do not know what it is, but many people seem to dislike Hawke. I d not under stand, I think he is delightful.

After that, we followed the trail into the Chantry, where another group attacked us. After these men were defeated, Isabela decided she would like to work with us further. She invited us all back to join her in a round of shots at the Hanged Man. Hawke refused, but Varric was game, so I went as well.

She ordered a round as Varric dealt a hand of cards. When the Waitress brought the try, I grabbed one of the small glasses as she offered.

"You sure you want to do that, Daisy?" Varric said, a sarcastic smile across his face.

"I can take it!" I retorted churlishly and took a sip. I didn't gag, but I am sure my face told it, for he gave a short laugh.

"No, Kitten, not like that. You have to open you throat, and throw it back, letting as little as possible touch your tongue. Like this." Isabela brought the rim of the glass to her lip, and tilting her head back, swallowed the amber drink. "Now try it."

I mimicked her as best I could, but I did not manage, and choked on the tail of the drink. When I was finished coughing, I noticed one of the other tables, full of dirty looking men, laughing uproariously.

"No worries, Kitten, we'll try it again. She signaled the waitress, who a few seconds later delivered a bottle to the table. Isabela refilled the glasses, and re-demonstrated. I did not choke, but it still left tears in my eyes. A warm feeling burned through my center. The dirty men laughed more, and I heard one of them saying something like: "They should send the little knife-ear o'er here. I could give her sum'it to choke on." At least I think… it's a bit fuzzy hear. I mean here.

"Excuse us for a moment." Isabela sighed, and pushed herself up. I was feeling really good, and was watching a candle dancing across the room. Varric was looking at me, strangely again, so I stuck my tongue out at him. It seemed the right thing to do. He shook his head, and muttered something under his breath that I didn't catch. Isabela was back but the men were…gone. Wonder where they went?

"Alright, Kitten, you'll get it, here." She refilled the glasses again.

"I don't think that's a good Idea, Rivaini." Varric said.

"Oh, sorry, would you like to show her?"

"Not what I mean…" She cut him off.

"Oh, sorry, I'll top you off too. No need to worry, Varric, Kitten is fine, right Kitten?"

"Of course I am, Varric." I think I started hiccupping, a little. "I feel grand!" And it was true, my middle was warm, and I could not remember anything I should worry about. I picked up the drink, and threw it back, maybe not perfectly, but I got it down smoothly.

After this… well, I don't remember anything. How did I get home? Ugh, My head is going to split, I'll worry about that later. I'm going to go and try to… I don't know, probably puke.

()

Isabela dropped by a little while after I finished the last entry. Apperently she took me home after I got sick last night. I don't remember falling ill, but I certainly feel it now. She just wanted to check on me, and give me some medicine. She made me take a drink out of a flask of "Hair of the Dog," before putting me to bed and telling me to get some rest. What a strange name for a potion. I wounder if she got the hair from Hawke's dog.

()

Hawke dropped in today, saying that we almost have enough gold saved to go on the expedition to the Deep Roads. I must admit, I am getting most excited. I've never been. Varric says there are a lot of Darkspawn there.

He stayed and chatted for a while, and told me about how he saved the Viscount son from a band of thugs. Most exciting.

()

I think I am getting used to traveling with Hawke. Earlier today, me tracked down a young half blood mage taken by Tevinter slaver, sent him to live with my clan, and recovered a crate of poisons for a friend of Isabela's. I do not even feel that these… tasks are odd anymore. It is kind of nice, getting to spend so much time with Hawke. And my other friends too. Of course. How do I manage to make myself feel like a fool when I am writing to myself?

()

I was taking a walk with Isabela today. She is so smart, so worldly. She must get bored of me so quickly. I decided to ask her a question.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what, kitten?" She asked, turning away from the stall she was browesing.

"You sort of…swagger. When you walk. I've tried, but I end up tripping myself." She gave me a soft smile.

"You just strut, you don't pratice."

"Then how do I learn it?"

It just comes to you, usually at night. It's like a lover…" She paused, thinking, then started back slowly. "Or a burglar. It either ravishes you… or runs of with all your jewelry, so you have to run it down and stab it in the heart. And… that metaphor got a bit away from me, didn't it?"

"A little, yes, but it was certainly exciting." She smiled at me, and I felt as if I did good.

"Don't worry about it, Kitten, one day it will just come to you, and you won't even notice."

I've no idea what she means, but I like that she has confidence in me.

()

We had occasion to go to a place called "The Blooming Rose" while looking for some missing Templar recruits. It was absolutely lovely! Isabela seemed at home. It was interesting, but in an enjoyable.

"And now I am in a brothel. My day is complete." Hawke said, but he sounded a little disipointed. I got confused.

"Why do they call it a brothel? Does it serve lots of broth?" No one said anything, so I looked around.

They were all staring at me.

"…What?" I said, slightly cross.

"Oh Kitten." Isabela said, walking up and giving me a hug. "If you were any cuter, I'd take you home and keep you as a pet. You say the cutest things."

Sometimes…well most of the time, I don't understand humans. We found a blood mage in the Brothel, who would use desire to lure young Templar to a lair of evil mages. She caught Hawke in her thrall, but I promptly put a stop to that, and then Hawke promptly put a stop to her. They would be possessedand then returned to the Gallows to inflict fear and casualties. Hawke killed their leader, (and everyone else) in the sanctuary, rescuing one of the Templar. No sure if he had already been possessed, Hawke asked me. I checked his blood, and was relived to find no trace of Demon's spore in his blood.

Hawke continues to puzzle, and amaze me. He walked into a lair of evil Blood Mages and Abominations, merely to attempt to save one Templar, even with his own sister constantly on the run from the Order. I asked him why, and he told me it was because the boy's sister asked him to save her brother. I do not get it, but I definitely like it.

()

I am still laid up in bed. We were on a task at the Bone Pit, the stone quarry outside of Kirkwall, attempting to clear out unknown monsters threatening the operations therein. Dragon kin were everywhere. We reached the area of newest excavation, when we ran into a survivor who warned us of a huge dragon in the area not far beyond. Naturally, I asked Hawke if we could see it. I have a feeling we would have done so, even without my request.

Huge Dragons do not die easily. I was slinging ice spells, trying to cripple it eyes, but truthfully having little effect. After a few minutes of this, I guess it decided to take offence at this, as next thing I knew I was dangling in the air, my arm caught in its big teeth. Then suddenly I was on my back, looking up at Isabela's worried face as she wrapped my mangled shoulder in bloody linen. Looking around, I saw Hawke stabbing a now motionless Dragon in the eye, hilt deep with his large sword.

Then the pain hit. They took me to Anders Clinic, but all he could do was stop the bleeding. I learned that day that dragon fangs contain a poison that is resistant to magical healing, and induces severe pain. All I can do is wait untill the venom is clear of my systems, and then have Anders fix what is left. The pain comes in waves, waking me at night, and interrupting visits from my friends. But, Hawke told me that as soon as I am better, he'll put up the money to Varric's Brother, and we leave for the deep roads. He is waiting for me!

()

(The next several pages contain several images. The Pirate Isabela, the Dwarf Varric, the rebel Warden Anders, the elf Fenris, the Guard Captain Aveline, The Warden Bethany, and quite a few of he Champion, Hawke. All are scribed in what is presumed the authors hand during her period of injury. Cassandra was most taken by the liveliness and feelings showing in the eyes of the drawings. She was drawn to the final picture, one of the Champion, foot on the head of the vanquished Dragon, pulling out his gore drenched sword. She wondered if this was the Champion as he really looked, of if it was just what a scared and injured young girl saw of the man she loved. After her moment of study, she turned the page to a brief entry.)

()

It is set; tomorrow we all leave for the Deep Roads. Hawke said whatever time is spent not traveling will be eating and sleeping, and to bring only as much equipment as necessary, because we would all be "humping" extra rations. I am leaving my diary, but will update it as soon as we return.

()

**End part 3.**

**Alright, first is first, sorry it took so long. I meant to play to the deep roads, ended up to past the romancing Merrill in act 2. But, already drafted a large part of the year 5-7 part, so when it gets to there, I have a boost, as it is the scene (well, image) That I wrote the rest of this to build to.**

**Wanted to work in the "Apostitutes joke, but could work in it, and the "Broth" gag. Sorry. So, another real short deep road recap tomorrow, like, 2 pages at MOST, and the pound out some filler for years 2-4, and hopefully work that into most of act 2.**

**Thanks for the Reviews, and again, I NEED SPECIFICS about errors, because it reads "all good" to me.**

**I just (as in right f'ing now) looke over this, and checked the crap, and it looks good to me, but it is 2:30 in the morning (exactly) and I am going to bed. I will keep you apraised.**


	4. Pariah: Deep Roads

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

**Thanks for all the reviews! I don't really care 'bout my grammar/spelling/making sense to much in my comments, because it not part of the story. Unless it bother you guy, the I waill try and do better.**

**Sorryit took so very long. I've had this done for two weeks, but was errored and could not update. in respose to the reveiewer who pointed out the error with Bethany as the Warden, the parethesis passage (I'll start italizising as well) was Cassandra reading the diary, and having already heard Varric's recounting, Knew about Bethany's ...warden-ing? Sorry, if it is confusing, working out the bugs still.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

**Pariah**

Oh, it feels good to be home. I just realized, this is the first time I have thought of Kirkwall as my home, rather than as with the clan. It isn't as strange as I thought, being away from my people.

The Deep Roads… I am not sure I like them. There really is no sky. And ther really are a load of Darkspawn.

The highlights were… no that sounds like good things happened on the trip. The only good think was that we recovered a load of treasure, and I got a fair share.

Main points: We made it down, and killed a bunch of Darkspawn. Bodahn, the friendly dwarf, asked us to look for his son, Sandal, when he ran away. Well, no, he kind of just wandered off when no one was looking. We found him, surrounded by dead Darkspawn. I think he killed them, for he gave Hawke a strange staff. Hawke gave it to me, and sent Sandal back to camp. We continued through, clearing out more Darkspawn, until we reached a large chamber. To my horror, a large dragon was guarding the passage. I did not give this one the opportunity to maul me. I took much pleasure in making it's head explode.

After that, it was another 3 days before we reached thee spot we were looking for. We found a strange idol made of Lyrium, and after we passed it to Varric's brother, he locked us inside of the thaig! After much swearing, we looked for, and found a back way out. A hunger Demon that had possessed a rocky form offered us a deal. Hawke did not even give it a chance to make it's offer, I think he really doesn't like demons. We killed it quickly. I then got to meet a Rock Wraith, and it was most unfriendly. We found a treasure horde, and our route back to the surface.

Things were ok, until we were almost to the surface. Bethany had gotten tainted. Luckly, Anders knew the location of some exploring Grey Wardens and managed to talk them into admitting her. I hope she will be okay. She is a Hawke, so I think she will, but I still worry.

Varric was seriously upset at his brother, but he was long gone before we reached the surface. I have to go now, Isabela is going to take me shopping in Hightown.

()

**Like I said, short one. Just needed to cover this, and I am starting the next right away. Didn't want to just attach this to the front of it.**


	5. Pariah 4

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

**Alright, I'll Try and make this good.**

**To "The Ultimate Person," THAT is constructive criticism. (no sarcasm present.) The romance will come, but to my eyes, it didn't start manifesting as a clear "she wants him" until after the first 3 year break, so it's a' comin'. Plus, yeah, she's a total Britt, her voice is the gal from "Torchwood". Bioware gets some good voice actors. I like to think in the beginning, she still kind of embarrassed to place full, colored accounts down, even in writing. I like to think that like myself, she is now getting more used to reccording her thoughts in diary format, and will stick to what matters or was her own thoughts, rather than full accounts of what happened.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

**Pariah**

My, it's been several weeks since I have even looked at this book. I guess now that things have settled down Hawke, my life is boring again. Oh well, back to work.

()

Ok, time for a break. Hard to believe it been over a year it's been over a year since we got back from the Deep Roads. I haven't lost track of my friends, though. Hawke purchased his family house in Hightown, and moved there with his Mother. Bodahn also moved there, as a servant to the Hawke/Amell family, as payment for saving his son..

Isabela disappeared for a while, she wouldn't tell me where, but I have gotten a couple of letters. She says she might be back next month. I hope so, she'll have such good tales to tell.

Aveline is now captain of the city guard. She has been tough on the guardsman, but they have responded well, and the city is much safer than it was.

I have not had occasion to bump into Fenris, but he lives in Hightown.

Every now and then, I run across of Anders' Manifesto. I visit to say hi every now and then, or if I need a consult. He's grown more insistent with the Templar grip tightening.

Hawke told me that Bethany passed the joining and is now a full fledged Grey Warden. I am glad she's ok.

Varric used his portion of the loot to purchase the deed to the Hanged Man. It's the same as ever, but he is very happy about that. He has expanded its business and is making a good amount of coin. At least he doesn't need to pay for drinks anymore.

And me? I've devoted myself almost time to restoring the Eluvian. Much of my coin from the expidition has gone into it. Materials are scarce, and research is even harder to come by. But, progress is being made. I've got most of the frame restored, I think. The shard of glass I cleansed fits in, at least, and that is a start. I'm going to have to go back to the clan for something later, and I do not look forward to facing Marethari. Her disappointment when I talk about this mirror stings worse than if she yelled at me. It is weird.

On a positive note, I have acquired a number of old elvish books, while not exactly helpful, are at least entertaining.

()

I am so confused inside. ARGH!

The other day, Isabela visited. She was back in town, for the long haul, still unable to get her hands and a ship, or her relic.

"Hello Kitten, did you miss me?" She said, Walking in and giving me a hug.

"Of course I did." I replied happily, and it was true, I had missed her.

"Good, because I talked to Varric, and he said you've been spending way to much time holed up in this shack. So you are coming with me. All the boys are getting together, and I wouldn't want to be the only broad in the place." I tried to decline, as I was going to try another new angle at the mirror, but her personality and physical persistence gave me little choice.

We went to the Hanged Man, and I waited while Isabela spoke to the barman. They argued briefly, and finally she slid two sovereigns across the counter. A barmaid showed up and escorted us to a door I had not noticed before, and which lead to a staircase going downward. It ended in a angled hallway that lead to a large basement. Apparently Varric had done some remodeling. The basement had a large open middle area, with three risers of benches on three sides. Varric was a long table at the fourth side, and nearby was Fenris and Anders.

"Ah, Rivaini, I wondered when you would show up."

"Sorry, Varric, but I had to go and fetch Kitten." He nodded to me.

"Always nice to see you, Daisy. Your just in time, the next match is about to start."

"What is this?" I asked, looking around the area.

"Sparring pit." He said, and noticing that I was not aware of what that meant, he continued. "Basically, people can come in and beat each other senseless for money."

"That doesn't sound like much fun." I said. Why would people want to pay to hurt each other.

"I know what you mean, Daisy, but mock combat has a long tradition in all our cultures. This one is just less… fatal then most. We only use non-lethal weapons." He motioned to a stand leaning against the wall. Stacked upon it were all manner of light wooden swords, maces, axes, and staves. A thought crossed my mind.

"Is this legal, Varric?"

"Of course! What do you take me for." I wanted to remark: "A dwarf," but I though better of it. "I talked it out with Aveline and tied it up, right as rain. She said as long as no one got seriously hurt, or incited a riot, it was perfectly fine. Plus, for the big nights, Blondie comes over incase anyone gets…" He cast around for the a word, "overzealous. Here, sit with us and watch the next match. The man in the ring, he's won the last three bouts, and this other guy is going to try and cash him in." He patted a chair next to him, and I sat, as Isabela pulled up a chair and sat on my other side. I felt I should be back at home, working, but it was nice to be with my friends. Varric stood on his chair and announced the fight.

I must say, it was rather thrilling to watch these two men try to injure each other. The fact that they couldn't really hurt each other too badly made it pleasurable. The newcomer made rather short work of the veteran as Varric ran the rules by me.

"You see, Daisy," he began, "they go for points. A arm or leg hit gets one point, a body hit gets two. A solid hit to the head is worth twenty points, and a solid body hit when they have over twenty points is a death blow. When either opponent hit thirty points, it's over, and winner takes the gold. Real simple rules and a three sovereign buy in. Points are tallied but neutral representatives and marked on that board. There are special moves and coup de'graces, but the judges argue out the point allotment for those." It did seem well and good, if no one was getting injured.

_(Cassandra flipped the page in the diary, and a small booklet slid out. It's front bore the symbol for the hanged man, and the words "Contest Rules" penned messily underneath. She flipped briefly through, and noted it was a more complete listing of rules and maneuvers used in the sparring pit. Apparently, Merrill liked to include physical items when possible, like a scrapbook as well. This was authentic, though, which spoke to her on some level. The dwarf and letter told her this book was a duplicate of her journal. But why would she slot the physical items she'd collected with this book, instead of keeping them with her? The thought left her with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, and made her stir in her cot. The original story of the dangerous elven apostate blood mage had softened during Varric's telling of the tale, and now, as she got more involved in the mind and workings of this little girls, she found herself liking her. While some accounts listed her as being… well, kind of stupid, that was shown increasingly false. She was merely unaccustomed to the world of humans. She was intelligent, and intelligent people don't ditch things like these without reason. She pushed the thought away, and continued reading.)_

I tried to watch the match after that, as the newcomer, Varric's paper had him labeled "Mickey," was 22 points up without a mark himself. I was distracted, however, by a hand landing on my shoulder.

"Nice to see you out and about." I think I jumped, as I turned to look up at Hawke, his other hand on Isabela's shoulder.

"Slumming it with us lowlifes today?" Isabela commented, and Hawke's hand squeezed my shoulder a little. I hope he didn't notice me quiver slightly!

"Got to keep in shape some how." He replied lightly. "What with Bodahn cooking for me now." he emphasized heavily, gravy on _everything!_"

"I could help with that." Isabella said, shooting him a sly smile, which he ignored.

"Hello, Hawke, it's nice to see you to." I interrupted, tying to keep my voice from shaking as my heart had jumped into my throat. My body reacts in the most uncomfortable… but strangely enjoyable ways to his presence. Varric ignored us all and announced the close of the fight, Mickey winning, 30 to nothing. He then began calling for a next opponent. No one was taking the bet, and Mickey leaned casually against his chosen staff.

I started as five heavy gold coins slapped on the table in front of me.

"We have a challenger. Current combatant, do you match the two sovereign increase?" The man nodded, and the matching amount was pulled from his winnings. "Alright, Ser Hawke, you know the drill, try and give them a good show!" Varric sat back down and called over a person taking bets, and gave his own to the attendant.

I had no doubts about Hawke's abilities… at least, I didn't think I did. I mean, when in the Deep Roads, I saw him slay an ogre, by himself, whilst we were holding back a wave of lesser Darkspawn. But I guess my face said otherwise, for Isabela looked over, and tried to sooth me.

"Aw, don't you worry Kitten, Hawke will be just… Oh, well isn't that nice?" I followed her eyes, and my mind ground to a halt. After selecting a large wooden claymore, Hawke had removed his shirt and tossed it aside. Oh my… it was…well… it was…_nice_.

_(Cassandra caught herself smirking on how even when writeing it down, Merrill stumbled over the words.)_

I do not know how long I stared, but I saw him staring back at me, and I went instantly red. I managed to give a small thumbs up before I felt the need to bury my face in my arms. I think Isabela saw, because she gave me that knowing smile of hers the rest of the night. Oh Creators I am such a fool!

When I calmed sufficiently that I could bare to show my face, they were facing each other down, Hawke at ease, Mickey spinning his staff in slow circles with one hand, poised to pounce. Varric called the match to a start, and the two men began circling each other. Just when the tension reached a near unbearable level, they closed.

Mickey moved in, ceasing the spin of his staff and bringing it upward. Hawke dodged the swipe, deflecting the blow with the hilt of his own, and countered with a side swipe. They continued trading blows, blocking and moving. I was watching only Hawke at that point, however. I was unable to do anything other then stare as they battled around the pit. The way he moved, the way his muscles jumped under his skin… the light sheen of sweat in the candle light… it was over, and I released the breath I didn't know I was holding in a long, satisfied sigh.

"That was…good… wasn't it." Isabela cooed. I leaned back and concurred.

"Mmmm-hmmm"

"And the winner is, Ser Hawke 5-30. The day is still young, do we have another taker?" No one responded. "Oh, come on, no one wants to take on the Ferelden refugee turned noblemen?"

"I'll do it." Isabela said, standing up and hitching her belt. She unhooked her daggers and flopped them on the table in front of me. She then removed a pair of knives that were less visible from somewhere I didn't see, and placed them with me. "Watch these for me, Kitten." She said before walking around the table and placing five gold in front of Varric.

"Are you sure you want to fight Hawke?" I asked. Usually when we fight when traveling, I am too busy to watch how the other fight, other than in quick glimpses. But, from what I was able to see of the last fight, I… well, I don't really know. I just didn't like the idea of my friends fighting, I guess.

"Don't worry, Kitten, I'm covered." She said, walking over and leaning down to talk over the noise of bets coming in. "1 on 1 dueling is my specialty. Well, besides drunken whoreing, I guess. I even taught the "Hero of Ferelden" a couple of moves, way back when." She smirked and made air quotes around the words, but I guess I didn't look satisfied.

I wish I could see my face sometimes, just to see what everyone is reacting to. Her face changed like she realized something. "Oh, and I won't leaving any lasting marks on him, either." I didn't need to see myself to know my reaction then, as her smirk told it all. "And we'll talk about THAT, later." She said, pointing slyly at my face. If possible, I believe I went redder.

She sauntered out, struting to the weapon stand and causing a wide array of whistles, cat calls, and taunts, really makeing a show out of it.

"Once I find away to have these people pay to watch as well as bet without ticking the guard off, those two will make me a fortune." Varric commented to me, as she grabbed two wooden short swords. Hawke walked over, ditching the broad sword and selecting a one handed long sword. The moved to oposite corners, exchanged a few word I could not hear, and took ready poses, Hawke with wooden blade resting across his taut shoulders, and Isabela, one hooked at the small of her back, the other extended in front of her. Varric called the match to a start.

Before the echo of the word had died, Hawke left forward, slashing downward with a slight twist, hoping to outrun her dodge. But she did not dodge, but rather seemed to catch his blade with hers, and use the momentum to keep him moving paste her as she spun out of the way, nicking him on the back of the leg as he passed. Without pausing, he pivoted, throwing himself sideways and lashing out upward, hoping to catch her in her recovery. She dodged backward, easily clearing his range as he hit the sandy floor on his side.

Their battle was more like an intricate dance than a fight. Hawke's long, sweeping moves matched with her swift, precise strikes were amazing to watch. Hawke continuously moved forward, trying to keep her on defense, never attacking the same way twice. Short jabs, lond sweeps, high, low, all displaying a tight and controlled show of brute strength.

Isabela did not move around like Hawke, or even a person. She flowed like a liquid, fast, fluid and beautiful, never stopping in one place long enough to take a hit strong enough to break her balance. In four minutes of the dance, she scored 6 pints on Hawke, and left him sweating hard as they broke.

As the scene progressed, the warm feeling in my stomach slowly changed to an uncomfortable tightness and a mild sense of unease. I turned inward, trying to identify the problem, while still watching the bout. Hawke lashed out with a neck level horizontal sweep, and Isabela slid under and between his legs, knocking his shins as she passed, taking him to his knees, and bringing the score to 10-nothing.

I realized that my problem was that I had become infatuated with Hawke. Well, not the direct problem. I don't think liking Hawke is a problem in and of itself, but rather that the feeling generated were causing my discomfort. It was that plus Isabela. Oh, not that I blame Isabela either… argh! Just let me explain!

Watching her and Hawke out there made me start to compare myself to her, as if we were competing for Hawke. Oh, that still sounds wrong. See, watching her duel, see is just so sexy. She moves like a cat, all poise and grace, flowing like she has no bones. Plus she has experience with such things as I can not even begin to understand. And she is human. What do I have… pointy ears and … nothing. I'm not stupid. I have nothing he could be interested in, and Isabela is like a human desire Demon, only not trying to possess him. I was no competition at all.

With this realization, I flagged down the Waitress, and told her to bring me something strong. She returned with a flagon of something, and I paid her what she asked, plus 3 coppers for tip. They were still fighting, and Hawke had two points to his credit, compared to Isabela's 15. By the time my drink was half way drained, they broke apart, both panting, eying each other warily, and my feelings of sadness had ebbed, the alcohol taking hold and I was enjoying the spectical again.

Hawke had his sword in a two handed grip, point in the sand at his side, hunched over. Isabela warily moved closer. Just outside of contact Hawke reacted, stepping closer and slashing upward in one quick movement. Isabela had been waiting for it, and bounced back, but as her rear foot hit the ground, she launched forward again, arms wide and ready to slash inward at his exposed middle.

But, Hawke had been expecting that, and arms up but swing checked, brought the pommel down hard, smacking her in the head and throwing her off balance. He then threw his arms wide and bodily tacked her, taking her to the ground in a hoping to use his strength to pin her so he could finish it.

I am not sure what exactly happened, but he should have landed on top of her, facing away from me, but when they stopped moving, he was on his back, Isabela on top, straddling him, her wooden blade at his throat. My stomach whooshed, and I killed the feeling by downing the rest of my drink as the moment on the ground stretched. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Varric called the match.

"And… The Rivaini wins the pot. Alright, ladies and gents, lets get some new blood in 'ere!" He called out some names off his paper as Isabela gave her hand to help Hawke up, before he trotted to retrieve his discarded shirt. She walked over, dusting herself off, and collected her winnings before moving to me and slotting he weapons back in their places.

"Drinks are on me, Kitten, what'll you have."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Isabela, but I really need to go home and get back to work."

"Really?" She seemed genuinely disappointed. "What is it you are always working on, dear?"

"Oh, you know, in the Alienage, something always need to be repaired or replaced." It wasn't really a lie.

"Alright… if you must… but come by and see me when you get a chance, I still want to talk to you." I agreed, although I had no intention of doing that. I said my goodbyes, and headed out. It was dusk, and the streets were getting dark, but there was no incident, as the guard was still duty, to discourage early evening crime. Now that I have filled you in on tonight's events, I am going to bed. It might just be the booze hitting me full on, but I am to tired to work anymore tonight.

()

I had a dream, or maybe a nightmare, last night. It was odd, so I think it may have been the alcohol.

I was working on the Eluvian, and had much more done that I do now. Much of the glass was back, except for a long, jagged gash down the center. I walked up to it, and saw myself reflected in it, which is crazy, because the glass I have in now shows no reflection at all.

As I stare at myself, from behind me w man walks up and stands behind me. At first I believe it is Hawke, but as I look, he is not. He is tall and has the same dark hair,but broader shoulders and a regal stance, a scar crossed the face and the beard and mustache is much longer. And the eyes look far too old to be his, telling of horrors past, and more to come. They are a sad brown color. He is dressed in shining silver armor, the torso of a blood colored dragon splashed across the front of his chest plate. He lifts his hand, and places it on my shoulder. I do not feel it, and turn and look behind me, but nothing is there outside the swirling gloom.

When I turn back to the mirror, he is still there, but I am gone. Where I stood is now a stunningly beautiful woman wearing the tatters of a purple/red robe, hung in such a way that it leaves almost nothing to the imagination. An intricate, slatted choker was wrapped around her neck, random baubles hanging from it. Her right arm bore a black band around the bicep, and the left a full sleeve with black feathers poking out from the shoulder. The remains of a knee length black dress and trousers completed her outfit.

But, the thing that stood out most were her eyes. They were bright yellow, and seemed to glow with a light of their own. They had the shrewdness and definition of a cats eyes, and seemed to be able to look through whatever her gaze fell on. It was then I saw that she held a baby in her arms, as she and the man looked at me through the mirror. As I watched the struggling baby, it began to change before my eyes.

It started to grow, swelling slowly until the woman dropped it. They faded as the Baby continued to grow, crawling along the base of the mirrors view. I gaped in horror as it's skin changed to scales, spines grew along it's spine, and wing sprouted from the shoulders. After a few grotesque minutes, the Baby had grown into a giant dragon. There was no doubt about it, the thing radiated pure, cold, slimy, repulsive evil. It turned its head and saw me, staring through the cracked mirror. It roared and spit a gout of flame which burst through and enveloped me.

I snapped awake and I think I may have screamed. I hope it was just the booze in my system, and not me going crazy that caused it. I don't like to think about the second option…

()

Ok, I think it may be the crazy. It's been 2 months, and I have had the dream 7 more times, each a little different. One time, the mirror looked into the fade, it's shimmering unreality easily distinguishable. The couple looked on through a gateway across the uneven ground. Another, it was a horde of Darkspawn between us.

Maybe I'm just stressed about my lack of progress on the Eluvian?

()

Well, that's it. I hit the end of the road. I cannot figure out what else to do. I have tried everything I can think of to get this blighted mirror to work. I even went so far as to get drunk and shout at it. (Isabela said it is a good course of action sometimes, and I have nothing else to try.) actually, I can think of one other thing to try, but I've no Idea how to achieve it. I need the arulin'holm, the ancient magical crafting blade held by my clan. I might as well need the blood of the Arch Demon, for it is about as accessible.

Argh! This is so frustrating! I … wait a minute… someone is knocking.

Oh, what timing! Hawke came over. He's going to see the Arishok in the Qunari compound, and asked I if wanted to go. I've always wanted to see the inside of the Qunari compound.


	6. Pariah 5

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

**Alright, I'll Try and make this good.**

**Still cannot do anything like posting, and so I'mma continue anyway.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

**Pariah**

The Arishok is not a happy person. He's so dour, and vaguely threatening. He called upon Hawke in order to have him solve a problem. I don't know why he couldn't just do it himself. Someone, he believed it to be a dwarf, stole an amount of his non-Lyrium based explosives. We tracked him down, he told us about some crazy elf, and then when to find her.

I am consistently surprised at just how the minds of others work. This female elf felt she could avenge her brother's loss at the hands of the Qunari by killing scores of innocent citizens of the city. It makes me sad the way these elves work so hard to keep us in the ghettos. How are we supposed to reclaim or history if we keep perpetuation our situation like this in the cities? Hawke put a stop to her before her stolen poison could harm more than a few dozen people. When we reported to the Qunari, the Arishok didn't seem to care at all. That kind of apathy to suffering simply infuriates me.

()

I think I am going crazy. The dreams of the Knight and the woman with the yellow eyes are getting more frequent. The meaning, if any, still eludes me. Mabye it's the pressure of keeping the mirror a secret, holed up in my hut? Maybe if I tell someone about it, and the guilt attached to it, they we stop, or even fade? I think I'll invite hawke over, see what he thinks.

()

Ok, so I had Hawke over, and showed him the Eluvian. It did not go as bad as I feared, or as well as I hoped, but it left me feeling strangely happy. We talked briefly about it's origin in the ruins deep in the heart of the Berccilian Forest, and how it was believed to be related to the disappearance of on of my clan members. Thankfully, he didn't ask many question then.

"Isn't it pretty, though?" I said, rubbing the frame on the side slightly, looking into the foggy glass.

"Not as pretty as you are," He said, but I almost missed it, "but please tell me your not didn't bring the magic kill people mirror here because it's pretty." I scoffed slightly before catching it and cutting it off.

"Of course not. I'm going to finish rebuilding it." He continued to look at me, right in the eyes, the way he always does that makes me nervous and babble like a fool. I managed to elaborate without stuttering. Well, not much, anyway. "It is a part of our history. It dates all the way back to the days of Arlathan, and has survived since the fall. This could help me restore some our ancient culture!" I guess I got a little excited, because a slightly awkward silence followed his nod. After a few seconds, I spoke soft and tentatively. "If I needed help, would you help me?" He looked faintly surprised.

"I don't know anything about old elven mirrors, but I am good at moving things. If something comes up that I can assist you with, I would be happy to help."

My heart leapt into my throat (I am not sure why, other then I figured he'd tell me to, as Varric would say "sod off, yeh blighter.) I had to swallow it before I could speak again.

"Oh, thank you, Hawke, I don't have anything now, but I will let you know when I have something. Thank you!" I knew I was thanking him to much, but he smiled and did not comment on it. I felt good for a long time after that, as I realized that he had flirted with me a little bit. I think he did. Did he? Maybe he was just being friendly. I mean, I have seen him flirt with Isabela, Aveline and even Fenris and Anders. Varric says that Hwke is just having fun with them, and the boys do seem slightly taken aback at it. I don't know. I guess I am just worry myself, though I do still feel good.

()

I have played out all my options, going to see if Hawke will help me get the knife.

()

Hawke got me a knife. Not THE knife, but a knife. Well, ok, he got The Knife too, but… It was a bit strange, but he just showed up yesterday day, and said:

"Hello, Merrill, how are you today?" He leaned against the doorframe of my hovel, and I winced as the wood bent.

"Oh, what a pleasant surprise, Hawke," I said back, smiling as he straitened up. "I was just about to come looking for you." It is true, I was.

"Lucky me," He said, shooting me a smile that made my insides squirm…in a pleasant and frustrating way, of course. "Here, I got this for you." He handed me a small item wrapped in a square of leather. I looked at it, then began to unwrap it as he continued. "We tend to make a lot of enemies, some for longer than other and I thought you should have this." I finished opening it, and it was a small knife in a leather holster, with a loop around the back that tied.

"…Thank you?" I said, and I guess my voice or face said more than I intended, for he elaborated awkwardly.

"Oh, I know you probably don't need it for defense, seeing as you have have the whole magic thing going for you, but it never hurts to have a back up… um…" I was shocked hear Hawke having trouble with his words, but at the same time a little glad that someone other than me could babble. I then felt bad about that. He switched his thought path and came at it again.

"*ahem*, what I mean is, a knife is the most versatile and handy tool ever created, by elf, man, or dwarf. Plus, if you ever find yourself assaulted without your staff, it could be used in defense."

"What do you mean?" I had been looking at the small blade, curved and actually quite pretty, maybe not of Dalish make, but certainly of elvish origin. I had been looking at it and not really listening to Hawke, so I didn't get what he had said.

"If you aren't able to get at your staff, you can still defend yourself." I thought I understood what he was hinting at.

"I don't need a staff to cast magic." I said it a little bluntly, because it was such simple knowledge. The look on his face told me he did not know this, and I felt bad. So I endeavored to explain. "Magic is in a mages blood, not dependant on a magic staff. The staff is not necessary in the spell casting process." He though about it for a second.

"Why do mages carry a staff, then?" I was happy I could answer that one.

"There are a multitude of reasons. The main it that it provides use with a stable and reliable weapon. They are crafted of Lyrium infused materials that help focus and amplify the magic's cast. They also allow us to project a bolt of elemental energy, type dependant on the materials used in its construction, without depleting our own reserves of Mana. For the clans of the Dalish, it serves to mark those of us who can perform magic, and is also a distinguishing symbol to mark the keeper,, who may not be known by sight by other clans. They also serve as a reflection of the personality of the individual Mage, through decoration and style. I do not know first hand, but Anders once told me they also server to show rank within the Circles as well." I was proud of myself, for keeping it rather short and simple. I had puzzled slightly at the fact the he would be ignorant in this, with his sister being a mage, but maybe she herself was unaware, being raised outside the companionship of other mages, and their learning's. He continued his questioning.

"What if one was to craft a sword or bow with the materials used in the staff?"

"It would not work. The crafting process is to widely different, and many of the materials, while suitable for runes and inlays, are far too fragile for the stresses involved. I was reading, however, in one of my books, about a type of ancient elven Mage that could manipulate their connection with the Fade to augment their blades. I believe they were referred to as Arcane Warriors, but sadly, the art has been completely lost, like so much of our culture." I ended on a sad note with a sigh. Hawke's brows knitted with concern. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Ok, sorry it is kind of …lacking in usefullness. I will try to better next time." I felt bad again, and thanked him.

"Oh, no, I like it, thank you, Ser Hawke." He smiled, and it made me smile. I took a deep breath, and decided to plunge onward with my own agenda. "what I was going to seek you out about, I that I need your help in asking the Keeper for help. With the Mirror." I added the last when I realized I was making no sense. He cocked his eyebrow, prompting me (well, I think that was it) to continue. "I need an ancient crafting knife, held by the clan, to help me in the reconstruction of the Mirror. I cannot face her alone. she just has this way of getting to you when she disapproves that just saps your willpower to resist. Please, come with me?" He stood up from the seat he had taken at my table, readjusting the how his armor sat.

"I said I would help you when the time came, when do we go?

After the joyous swoop in my stomach at those words, everything got steadily worse.

We went to the Clan, and directly to the Keeper. I asked her for the Knife. She told me I was still welcome back, and if it hadn't been for Hawke, I would not have been able to continue. Varric and Isabela came along as well, and their support helped as well. I evoked the rite that allowed me to complete a task for the Keeper in exchange for the knife. A Varterral in a cave close to the camp had been acting out, killing the hunters sent in to pacify it. If we could take care of it, the knife was mine.

We ventured into the cave, and quickly came across the body on one of the hunters. It was not a pretty sight. I collected his amulet, and we moved on. The state of the body was very discouraging, as Varterral are usually quite placid, but this one was clearly enraged. It got worse as we found the other two hunters. As we neared the creatures lair, we came across Pol, a city born elf, who I was familiar with. He ran at the sight of me, right into the Varterral's lair, more afraid of me than it! I did not have time to feel anything more than shock then, as we chased after, and saw him struck down by the beast. We then were engaged, and after a strenuous bout, emerged victorious, but not unscathed. It was then that the feeling hit and I felt crushed. Pol, a city elf, had been more afraid of me than the beat in the cave, and had died for it. It was my fault. Hawke did what he had to do, and we began the trip back down, my mind turning over all of the facts. The looks I received in the camp, the near distant, disappointed tone of the Keepers voice, it was all making my gut hurt. Was I really more of a monster that I knew?

Isabela waked over without saying anything, and grabbed my hand as we walked. She held my hand the entire way down the mountain, and I am convinced that is the only thing that kept me from crying until I got home. Hawke talked to Marethari and returned the trinkets of the hunters while Isabela walked me out of the camp, where we waited until Hawke rejoined us. He held out the knife to me, and surprised, reached out my hand to take it. I had forgotten the purpose of our trip, so far down in my gloom had I slunk. As I grabbed it, he cupped his other under my own. He looked straight into my eyes.

"It's not your fault, Merrill." The conviction in his words was so strong I almost believed it.

"That's right, Kitten," Isabela said, squeezing the hand she still held, "men just do stupid things, for no reason t'all." I smiled weakly, and thanked them, and we headed home. I cried almost immediately after they said goodnight, and still do, at irregular intervals. I much preferred being distant as compared to hated and feared.

I still cannot shake the fear in Pol's eyes when he saw me. How could a day that started so well, have ended so badly?

()

I was sitting in front of the mirror, reflecting on the events a few days prior, doubts still chasing around my mind, but the crushing guilt having abated slightly. I did not here Hawke enter, until he spoke from right behind me. I was so deep in my funk I did not start, but was able to calmly turn around.

"How you holding up, Merrill."

"Hello, Hawke. I;m ok, well, not really, I guess…I don't know." I was jumbled up pretty good inside. I let out a deep sigh, and uncrossed my legs. "I just thought that, once I got the knife, I would fix the Eluvian and would be able to bring it back to the clan, having restored some of our glory." He held out his hand, and I accepted and spoke as he pulled me to my feet. We sat at the table as I continued. "But with the way that everyone… especially Pol, reacted to me, the must think I am a monster." I averted my eyes as I finished, the pain flaring back up onside me at the recounting. I was surprised when I felt his hand land atop my own.

"Don't be silly, Merrill, I can't think of anyone more loveable than you. Besides, once you get your mirror working, and show them, I'm sure it will change their tune." I looked up, and he was smiling softly, and combined with the warmth of his touch, it drew a small smile from me as well. I felt a little flush creep into my cheeks, but not due to emberessment for once. His eyes then widened slightly. "Oh, and before I forget, I got something for you." He let go of the top of my hand, and reached down, out of sight beside him. He brought back up a small wooden Halla, that was unmistakably made by Master Ilen, the craft master of our clan.

"Oh, my…" I said, taking the little carved creature, then it hit me. "I've forgotten some anniversary, haven't I?" I had switched to panic so fast that I got slightly dizzy, and it got worse when he looked surprised.

"I really need to learn to read in elven. I had no idea there was ceremony attached to this gift, how badly did I mess up?" I did not understand him, and we continued back and forth, getting more confused. Finally, we got it straightened when he asserted that it was simply a gift, because I seemed down in the dumps.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I've never gotten a gift, just for nothing, before. I always have gotten practical things, like the blade you gave me, when it was felt they were necessary." I have planned to ask Isabela to help me lean to use the knife well, if for nothing other than sentiment.

This little reveal led us into a discussion on the ways of our tribe, and when all of a suddend, Hawke rose.

"Give me a few minutes, I'll be right back." He left before I could reply, and I pattered around, tiding up slightly, and became mired in doubt again. But, 20 minutes later, he returned with a spread of food and a couple of bottles of wine. He set it up as I watched, and then urged me to continue. We talked for a long time, on many subjets. Blood Magic, elven customs, even our other friends. I got a more clear vision of Hawke's family, and how he came to be at Kirkwall. It was amazing how the wine could relax me, without making me feel drunk. I think I will make this my drink of choice.

We said good bye, two hoours later, and I felt better than I had since I came to the Alienage. I got lost in so many unconnected people, and in a way, was more lost than when I was secluded within the clan.

I had my feelings straightened out though. Tomorrow. I will go tomorrow night, and tell Hawke how I feel.

**Ok, so I k****inda lied, and there is another before my big one.**

**Anyway, a number, (or one repeatedly, ) have suggested Beta reading, so If you are intrested, hit me with a private message with details, and I'll se if I can't figure out what it is, and facilitate you.**

**Up next on Angsty Elf theater, From Romance to the death of the Arishok.**


	7. Pariah 6

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

**Ding dong doddlely doddely do! More to follow.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

**Pariah**

(_Cassandra turned the page, and noticed abruptly something was different. Over the page, little bits of the paper were crinkled, like it had gotten wet. As she read the first line, it became apparent as to what had happened. Merrill had been crying onto the book.)_

Oh no! Oh, I have blown it so very badly! He HATES me! He has to! The worst part is I deserve it!

_(Cassandra could __almost hear the deep ragged breath she would have taken after chocking off a sob, and could tell by the large blot and smeared sentence start that she had sniffed it back pretty good. Even being of the chantry, _that_ kind of sorrow was known.)_

Ok. Let me go back over what happened. The half elf boy we helped escape slavers and the circle years ago, his mother came looking for Hawke's help. Apparently, his odd form of magic backed up on him and locked him within his own mind in the fade. Marethari was coming to perform an ancient rite to allow us enter his dream fade in an attempt to help him pull out of it.

I was impressed by the way the city elves reacted with respect to the arrival of the Keeper. They bowed and everything, even those who were born with no link to the actual Dalish tribes. Once in the house…er hovel, she pulled Hawke aside, but I was not included. In fact, the Keeper kept giving me small, sorrowful looks the entire time before she put us under.

It was awful! We were in what looked like the templar hall, but not nearly as warped as things normally are in the fade. We got the situation from a Sloth demon of all places. Apparently, a Pride and a Desire demon were fighting over dominating his mind. The Sloth, true to its nature, was hoping we would intervene and leave the boy open for its own possession. Hawke cut it down almost before it finished, and then we moved on to take out the Pride. That is where it…where _I_ screwed up.

I knew the demon would say nothing but lies, but each one of its words struck a chord of my heart. It said it could not just help, but bring back the heritage of my people, and that they would _accept_ it! I… I stammered out something, I am not sure what, after Hawke said something to me… I can't recall what. Everything at that point became hazy, except for an overwhelming desire to turn and light Hawke on fire. The next thing I knew I snapped awake on the floor of the hovel. I had staggered out onto the street before the full realization of what I had just done hit me.

_(Here, the drops on the page resumed, to an extent that the next line of inked text was on the back of the page. Cassandra could tell that it started with a sniffle.)_

I betrayed Hawke! He trusted me as his companion, and I let him down wholly! Oh, no! Someone is at the door! It has to be Hawke, here to yell at me! I hope I don't cry too much…

()

…That was… well… hmmm.

He knocked on the door and I let him in, and let him sit before I started in.

"I am so sorry Hawke. I don't… Oh just… I understand if you have to hate me." I tried to stammer out… something, I don't know, I _still_ don't know what I was I trying to say. He made a dismissive noise, which caused me to raise my head and cease my deep investigation of the floor. It sounded like "Pfft" but it was not easily recorded. I looked at him and he leaned in slightly.

"Don't worry about it, Merrill. I mean, if I got mad at everyone who tried kill me in a dream, I not only wouldn't have any friends, and I would have an intense fear of Racoons." I gave a small choking cough-laugh. Wow, that is awkward sounding. Some things are so hard to find words that work with them.

"How do you do that?" I asked, although it was not actually a question. "Just make everything better with a smile and a laugh? It's like a kind of magic that doesn't get you in trouble." Maybe it _was_ magic. I mean, it would not be a stretch to find out Hawke had a bit of the fade in him, it certainly ran in the family.

"It's nothing." He gave a dismissive wave, but it wasn't the kind that makes me feel foolish, but the kind that makes me feel good. He leaned forward further, resting his elbows on his knees and motioning for me to joining him. I sat down on the bench, rather close. "What I really came by for was to see if you were alright. I have seen the allure the demons can exhibit on even the most sensible of mages. And you are in more danger that most."

"Oh." I said, thinking. "because of the Blood Magic?" He nodded.

"Yes. How do you fight it, when your on it's turf?"

"There are a few ways. Never trust anything you see in the fade. Remember that you are the only thing that can be believed, and be aware that nothing is solid. Almost anything is possible within, and you are anchored only by your own willpower to stay as you are. You have no physical form, and if you lose your bearings, you could just kind of…" I was casting around for a word, my hands traveling circles around each other. It is not an easy thing to describe. "…dissolve, and be trapped in the fade, unable to return, as your body withers away and dies in our world.

"The demons can read your heart, and, if your desires line up with their own nature, they can actual feed of of it to grow stronger." Now I had a question.

"When we were in the boy's dream, did you not feel the pull of the Sloth's demons words as he tried to persuade you?" I had, as I often am, been watching Hawke when he spoke to the demon. He had shown no outward signs of the demons attempt to garner our aid. It was weak, but I had felt the a slight fluttering in my chest.

"Not a bit." He said as if it was never in doubt, but it was not harsh in tone. "The thing tried in vain, because it could not give me anything I want. None of them can." I nodded, thinking about it. Hawke knew who he was, and was very clear about his wants. I had, thinking back on it, noticed that the "Fade" Hawke had shown, clear and bright in the omnipresent haze and distortion of the realm. He continued, cutting of my thoughts.

"I have everything I want, right _here…_" He let the word trail of, in a manner that caused me to look up. Maybe it was the fatigue brought on by switching so many emotional gears and wearing myself down, but it almost seemed as if he were saying something, just below the words. He let it hang for 8 of my quickening heart beats before continuing. "My family is taken care of, I have interesting friends, I have a steady income, and I enjoy my past times. What can they offer me when I lack nothing?" I looked at him, but he was staring of into space. After a moment, he seemed to snap back into himself, and stood up, slowly. "I don't want to burden your hospitality further." He gave me one of those ruffian smiles of his, the kind that make me melt inside, and I rose to. A look of concern flashed in his eyes. "Your sure your ok?"

In the absence of all my previous woes, it hit me that I must look a wreck, and that started a whole new chain of worry.

"Oh, yes, thank you Hawke." I muttered, humbly, then it took a gamble. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his chest, giving him a close, tight hug, burying my face in his shoulder. "Thank you so much." I felt the weight of his own arms drop around me, and he gave me a brief, comforting squeeze, adding to the new, pleasant feeling I was experienceing. We said good byes, and he left, and I watched him walk up the street.

The Dread Wolf can have it, I am going to do it tonight, before I scare myself away. I'll take a nap, then clean myself up, then go and see him. I'll need to find some soap…

()

It was about an hour after the dark had fallen when I finally worked up the nerve to go to his house, and I was more nervous than I have ever been before. Even my thoughts were stammering, and they kept sprouting in odd directions. I started as soon as he descended the stairs. I didn't even let him say anything, I just started in.

"Oh, Thank goodness you're here! I thought you might be at the hanged man. I almost went there, but then I though, maybe you might have gone to your uncles instead but I…"with a shudder I realized what I was doing, "am rambling, aren't I" I began to panic, and almost missed what he said next.

"Oh, that's all right, Merrill, you're adorable when you're flustered." He said it so nonchalantly I almost backed down. But I sighed, and plowed on ahead, trying to put in words what had been bouncing around in my head.

"After you left today, I started thinking, about Pol, the Mirror, and everything else. The events in the fade… made me think. Maybe it was a mistake, leaving my clan." Hawke looked unconcerned.

"Don't be silly, you're just feeling a bit home sick. It's perfectly natural, no reason to second guess yourself." I started my reply to myself.

"Yeah, I guess I never would have met you if I hadn't left." I was looking down, and speaking softly, but I think he might have heard me. I continued to him. "It's amazing, if you were Dalish, we'd have a kingdom by now…" I scratched my brow as I let that thought percolate. "…and we'd be at war with half of Thedas." I smiled slightly. "I guess things worked out for the best." He looked slightly surprised before he replied.

"Ok, good. I'll postpone making myself more "elf-y" then."

"Oh!" I was a bit flattered by this comment, although I cannot say why. "You'd look handsome with pointy ears…not that you don't now." I had been doing alright up until then, I thought. But then I started my downhill slide, by talking to myself, again. "The Keeper,…the whole clan would object if we ever…Heh," I gave a small, dry chuckle as another thought occurred to me. "Not that they could hate me anymore at this point." I looked up, and he gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Their disapproval is a small price to pay for being happy, isn't it?" I thought I could almost read the look in his eyes, but my doubt got the better of me and I started to turn. I halted my progress when his hands grabbed my face and cupped my chin. He locked his eyes with mine. "It's ok, Merrill." He said, his voice so calm, so sure… I pounced. I moved forward, on the tips of my toes, and sloppily planted my lips on his. Rather than spurn me, he pulled me closer, in deeper.

I…I do not, first of all, know _how_ to describe what happened next. That, coupled with the facet that I shan't ever forget what it was like… well, I won't record the physical aspects. But the feelings… oh, my! It was like the first spell I ever cast! Warm tingles shooting through my extremities, fireworks in my chest, an my face flushed, but not from embarrassment for once!

After the act, (and by act, I mean Sex! I had Sex! With Hawke! It feels so odd, but so _good_ to be able to say that!) we were lying in his bed, the warm glow of our physical intimacy still gripped firmly in my chest. I let out a contented sigh.

"So… what's next?" Then, my doubts came back. Why must I always get in the way of myself, especially on the rare occasions when I am feeling good about myself? "And… what did this mean?" He was gently stroking my arm as he pondered the questions, and a panic again began to build. Elgar'nan I frustrate myself!

"You know," I held my breath at the pause in his words, staring at the ceiling, "we may have to try that a few more times, to fully get the meaning…" Oh! I do love him, but I sometimes think his mother should have used a switch on him just a little more often. I did not say that, as I had not thought it, until now.

"I love you!" The excitement in my voice was quite… obvious, and probably desperate, as I countered my enthusiasm with more verbal introspection. "I shouldn't have said that, I always say the stupidest things."

"It works. Listen," he proped himself up, shifting me, and looked down at me. "I was thinking of having my elven lover move in with me, here in high town. You know, really scandalized the neighbors and stir up this dull town, what do you think." I almost, just almost, asked who he was talking about, but caught myself. The sheer audacity of the statement made me shuck the covers, and stand up before turning to look at him. I'll be damned id he wasn't making puppy eyes at me!

"Me? Move in here, in the nice part of town with no rats in it? And you, publicly with an elf?"

"Well, we do still have the rats, they are just more polite, you know, wiping their feet before they come in, and not traipsing about as if they owned the place."

"Ma'vhenan, you really are crazy, aren't you?" He nodded emphatically, and gave a crooked grin as he stood up. "I guess… if you aren't afraid, I'm not either."

…

I left Hawke's house to get a few things from my own hovel. I walked down my usual route, lost in my own happy thoughts. I was pulled out of my reverie by a familiar voice.

"Wheeeelll, would you look at this!" I turned, finding myself outside the Hanged man, where Isabela and Varric were leaning against the wall, talking.

"Oh, hello, guys." I faced them, and walked over, watching the gleam in their eyes as I moved closer. Something about her seemed… predatory.

"You see that, Varric?" She said, in that purr that means she _really_ liked what she was seeing.

"I certainly do, Rivaini." His voice held a bit more than its usual amount mirth, and his face betrayed nothing. Isibela looked back over and spoke to me.

"I told you that swagger would come to you. What have you been up to, you're strutting like you just got a pony." At this point, I started to become red in the face. I thought, being in shadow, it would be less than apparent, but I was wrong, as Isabela saw it. When I didn't answer, she continued.

"…Or maybe a horse." I felt my flush deepen, and Isibela's brow inched up. "Oh, my…" She let it trickle out of her mouth as she guess what at happen. "Did you get your "Itch" scratched, Kitten?" I understood this one, and nodded slightly before I caught and stopped myself. She squealed in delight. "Oh, my little Kitten is growing up!" Varric shook his head, got off of the wall, and walked into his bar, muttering something that sounded like "all these women are crazy, just ignore them, Bianca." Isabela walked up and gave me a bear hug that knocked the wind out of me.

"Tell me about it, dear, are you taggin' on of the cute little elf boys in your part of town, or did you go slummin' it with one of my kind?" After I got her to let go, and caught my breath, I gave her the short version.

Maybe, ok, I know I do not understand humans. First, Hawke is not just ok with having sex with an elf, but then being publically with her…er me. Then, I was sure Isabela was at least interested in Hawke, but she seemed all the happier when I told her it was him I was, as she put, tagging. She was not surprised when I told her that I was moving into the Estate with him. I just don't get it. Maybe they're all crazy? Or more likely, I am crazy.

()

I… Hawke's mother, Lady Amell, she was murdered last night. Hawke is taking it hard, especially because he had to write a letter telling Bethany what happened. I think he fears that she will have the same sort of reaction that his uncle had, and blame him for it. I'll try and comfort him soon, but I don't want to bother him. I am a little worried, because the murderer was a mage, like so many of the problems we deal with. I just don't like it.

()

She… I can't believe… She just RAN off!

Isabela found her relic, and tracked it to a warehouse in the Harbor. It wasn't good. The relic was an ancient tome of the Qunari's, which Isabela had stolen, and THIS WAS THE REASON THE QUNARI ARE STILL IN KIRKWALL! The man who had it, was selling it to some Tevinter mages, and bolted when we arrived. Isabela gave chase as the mages (why did it have to be mages at a time like this!) attacked. After they were cleared out, we emerged, to find the fence dead, and Isabela gone. I … she can't really be gone, can she? She wouldn't leave without saying good bye? Hmm… I smell smoke…I just heard a scream. I am going to go see what is happening.

()

**End part six.**

**A big thanks for AlmostInsane, for going over this and the next, and putting up with my Bullcrap. If I did anything really nuts, i'mma blame it on the benadryl. Night, all, parte 7, maybe tommorrow, if I can keep my head out of my ass long enough. (Not good odds, if history means anything.)**


	8. Pariah 7

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

**"By the time I was your age i'd give anything, to fall in love truly, was all I could think. That's when I meat you mother, the girl of my dreams, the most beautiful woman that I'd ever seen. She said: "boy can I tell you a wonderful thing? I can't help but notice you staring at me. I know I shouldn't say this but I real believe, I can tell by your eyes that your in love with me." Now son, I'm only telling you this because life, can do terrible things.**

** - Mayday Parade, _Terrible things._**

**Pariah**

I returned to the Estate to find Hake upstairs, sitting in his chair, looking out of the window as the rain tapped gently on the glass. He was sitting back, arms on the rests, just sitting. Bodahn was out with Sandal, so besides Hawke, I was the only one at the house. I shed my cloak and hung it on the stand by the crackling fire. I then walked softly up the carpeted stairs, pasted the…playful carvings Isabela had so nicely added to the railings, and approached Hawk.

He did not talk about it, and gave no indication short of subtle, hard to read gestures, but the Qunari were plauging his thoughts. He sighed deeply as the people passed by, moving about the Hightown Market. The events had not turned out favorably for anyone. Many people were dead and things had still not settled down in the wake of the attack. Many feared retribution for the death of the Arishok, but it would not be coming, as that affair was handled in a suitable way for the Qunari's standards.

I knew he felt bad about the way things turned out, even if he would not talk about it. He hated having his hand forced. He would have turned himself over to the Qunari, if that would have ended the trouble, but he would have never given up Isabela, nor anyone else to them. He had not wanted to duel, but if the options were surrender a friend, or risk death, he would always, _always_ chose the risk.

It is one of the many reasons why I love him. None of us are used to that kind of conviction, or loyalty, (especially Isabela) and while I cannot speak for all of us, I know I am not deserving of it. I do hope that I will be able to deserve it one day.

He is also still greatly burdened with the responsibility of his Mothers death, though no one other than himself and his uncle blame him. After killing the murderer, he was alone for quite a time. I finally worked up the courage to talk to him. It is not good. With all of the Mage's we meet being crazy or abominations, I fear he's beginning to view magic as more danger than it is worth. Void take it, even I am starting to have doubts.

I had gone out to visit Isabela, to see how she was holding up after the ordeal with the Qunari. Aveline is holding out well in the absence of a Viscount, because her guard is loyal to her, and she maintains order, even in this chaotic time. Varric informed me when I got to the Hanged Man that Isabela was attempting to drink herself into a coma, but he would send my greetings. He said she was in was in a sad state, and she would not want me to see her in it. I stayed and chatted a while longer, before coming back home.

"What are you doing, Hawke?" I asked, softly, not wanting to startle him.

"Just…" he sighed again, and gestured with his right arm to the window, "watching the citizens working in the rain. Care to join me?"

"Sure, I'll go and get a chair." I said, and started to turn toward the stairs.

"No, allow me." I stopped and angled my torso back so I faced him again, as he rose and walked toward me. As he moved to pass me to the stairs he swung his left arm down behind my knees while bracing my upper back with his right, and swept me off my feet. I made surprised noise that sounded like a "whoop" at this sudden move.

He then walked back to the chair, and sat down, angling myself so that I was now sitting on his lap.

"Is this seat to the miladies liking?" He asked, his voice both humorous and charming at the same time. I don't think I quite giggled, and managed to keep some semblace of my composure.

"Oh my…" I said, "Yes, I am most pleased, Ser Hawke." It was a very nice place, and I reveled in being in his company. A warm spot grew in my center, and it too, was most pleasant. He then wrapped his left arm around my middle and drew my back flat upon his broad chest before resting his chin on my left shoulder, and weaving the fingers of his right hand in my own. I could feel the rumble of his breathing in his chest as we both stared out of the high window, and observed the dealings going on below while my entire body tingled.

We simply sat for quite a long time, my warm spot growing in size and pleasure, simply with sharing space with my beloved. It continued to build until I was almost quivering. His chest rose as he took a big breath.

"You know one of the things I like about you?" He asked. I shook my head, and I think I knocked him with my chin. "Because you are so small and slight, it is much easier to cuddle you that it would be with another." I shrugged my shoulders, forgetting his head, and his teeth clicked as his jaws made contact.

"Oh! Sorry!" I apologized, and was attempting to turn, but was held by his arm. He assured me non-verbally. I continued my thought. "I guess that just comes with being an elf." He did not reply for so long I thought he may not have heard me, but I did not want to err in another way, so I avoided speaking.

"Kicking yourself inside dear?" I felt the warm tingle stir in the wake of cold fright. He _could_ read minds! I nodded and hung my head in shame, closing my eyes and waiting for his derision. "I don't think it's an elf thing, because I would find it hard to believe all elves could pack this much delight in such a small package." It took me a moment for the words to register, and I think my heart almost burst as the cold was chased away.

"I love you, Merrill." It was not stated in a warm, intimate manner, but as a cold, reasoned fact. I think I quivered at that point. He had said this a few times now, but it still made my insides bubble to here it. My own voice rumbled in my throat as I replied.

"And I you, my love." He was silent for a few seconds.

"Did… Did you just purr?" Normally I would be embarrassed at this, but with the combination of the intimacy and the feelings in my middle, I was not.

"I don't know," I said as he started nuzzling my neck, really making me shiver. "Maybe this is why Isabela calls me "kitten"?"

"I doubt it," he said, "kittens buzz more than purr. It's more likely the big eyes and curious nature. and the whole... being adorable thing." He let the moment stretch until I thought I would burst. He continued nuzzling, his warm breath on the nape of my neck.

"You smell _in_credible." He said, the emphasis on the "in" sending shivers all the way down to my feet. He unlaced our hands, gripped my hips and pivoted me so that I could face him. His clear brown eyes stared deep into mine as he cupped my chin and brought me into a kiss as I moaned and pushed into it.

I will not go into detail here, as I am almost certain that Isabela has been reading this, but merely comment that it was amazing. (At this point, the words "Spoilsport, this is better than my books!" was scrawled in the margin, and a different hand than Merrill's.)

It did result in a minor embarrassment. Apparently, in the heat of our passion, I accentually slipped and set the bed on fire, but only a little.

Later, as we lay in bed, my head on his broad shoulder, pleasantly sleepy in the wake of our love (Here the word "Yuk" was underlined in the same hand as above, also in the margin.), he asked me about the mishap.

"So, was I really that good, or did we knock over a candle. I was to sleepy, comfortable and complacent to feel embarrassed.

"I just got a bit overwhelmed, I guess." He did not respond, then I realized my error. "Oh, but you were marvelous dear." He gave a little chuckle.

"Well, I do try." He pulled me in closer and planted a kiss on my forehead, as I snuggled up and let sleep pull me under.

I awoke sometime later to find Hawke gone. I stretched and got out of bed, and was halfway to the door before I realized… I AM STILL NAKED! I can hear that Bodahn is back, and it seems to be that Lady Hawke has returned as well! This is not good at all. I seem to remember most of my clothing was left in the on the other side of the door! I could just scream! Well, if I wasn't afraid I would draw attention to myself. I do hope Hawke returns before anyone has occasion to come in her.

I've killed at least a half hour updating you. Oh no, someone is knocking!"

()

Oh, Creators, what a fiasco!

A voice called out after the short knock.

"Oh, brave and merciful Champion of Kirkwall, I am but a poor and helpless maiden, come in desperate need of your help in an urgent…" The person opened the door while she spoke, and I chucked the diary into a corner before pulling up the blanket to cover myself. She surveyed the seen, eye shimmering with delight and mirth.

"Hmm… it seems the rumors of the Champion's beautiful Elven mistress were not exaggerated."

"Isabela!" I cried, so startled and relived I almost dropped the blanket. She smiled and closed the door behind her before sauntering up and sitting down at the foot of the bed, crossing her legs and leaning back.

"Well, hello Kitten." She put a lot of emphasis on the hello, and I was certain I was so red I was glowing. "a little early to be going to bed, isn't it?" I kept my eyes downward, and did not answer. I doubt if I had a voice at this point. "What's the matter dear?" She asked, a twinge of concern creeping in her voice. I felt the bed shift as she got up and moved closer to me. "Are you alri... Hmmm…" She chuckled slightly. "I see. Your naked, aren't you." I don't think I could have been any more embarrassed at this point. I felt red down to m shoulders.

"Aww, are you embarrassed at being caught taking a romp between the sheets by little old me?" I think I managed to nod. "That is so cute! But there is no need, I am quite proud of you!" I looked up and saw a big grin plastered across her face. "but, what did you do with Hawke?" Before I could say anything, we both heard the dog start barking, and Hawke shouting at it.

Isabela's eyes grew wide, but then she quickly leapt over the bed to the empty side. She quickly kicked off her boots, and untied her bandana, tossing them on the floor. She ruffled her long hair, making it fall in messy waves around her face. Then, furthering my surprise, she slid under the sheet. I gasped as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders and flowed up against me as if she was made to fit there. She whispered in my ear.

"Lay back and be quiet." She shifted me so that I was lying so that my body was facing her, like we had been snuggling. The door opened and Hawke walked in as I panicked. He walked in and along the side of the bed I was in, removing his own shoes as he walked. He was almost to the wardrobe before he looked over an saw us, Isabela stoking my hair, and me, half hysteric, not understanding what was going on.

I learned of another reason I love Hawke that day.

He stopped, and shaking his head, sighed loudly.

"Isabela, please quit trying to corrupt Merrill." She unwove instantly and sat up suddenly, taking the sheet with her. I "eeped" and snatched it back, covering myself.

"How could you even think I would do such a thing?" She said, her tone scandalized.

"You _really_ don't want me to answer that." Ha continued, lossening the buttons on his shirt.

"You insult me, Ser." She sat on the edge of the bed and began pulling on he boots again. "You've no worry that I come to steal your elven mistress from you?"

"Not a one. Look at her, you've scarred her half to death. Besides, she wouldn't know what to do with you." I was beginning to understand that Hawke was not upset. I noticed he had a bundle under his arm.

"That may be true," she replied, tying back her hair, "but I would enjoy teaching her." He sighed again.

"Are you alright, Merrill?" He asked me. I answered honestly, my voice a little shaky.

"I think so. I couldn't find my clothes…"

"Oh!" He stated, "Sorry, I took them and gave them to Bodahn to have cleaned. I went out to pick these up," he placed the package next to me on the bed, "but I expected to be back before you woke up."

"Oh my," Isabela growled, "I think I should drop in more often." He sighed for a third time, before grabbing her by the upper arm and leading her out.

"Lets go out here so you can tell me what you want before you chase Merrill out of our house for good." After he closed the door, and I calmed a little more, I opened the package. It was beautiful. They were new clothes.

It took me a few minutes to get it all on, but it fit perfectly. It was very light chain mail coving silver cloth for full body, with a light metal body piece covering from my chest to crotch. Plate shoulder cauldrons adorned the... well, shoulders. A light blue sash tied around the waist finished the outfit, and I will admit, it looks great. It's no heavier than my robes, but feels like it offers much more protection. It made up for all the shock I suffered that afternoon. When I ad it all in place, I walked over and opened the door, to show Hawke and Isabela.

"Oh my!" Isabela said when she turned and looked at me. "Now _that_ is much more like what _I_ would think that the concubine of the Champion should dress like."

"Concubine?" Humans have so many difficult words, and this was one I had not come across before. I don't think Hawke was familiar with it either, because he cocked his eyebrow at her. "What does that mean?" She looked at me the way she does when she says something dirty and it sails over my head.

"It means you… um… ah! It means that you look beautiful, kitten." Hawke' eyebrow remained raised, but I like the compliment. "All the other noble women in the neighborhood that weren't already jealous will be now." She turned to Hawke, "you know where to find me if you need me." She said, and left, casting another backward glance at me.

"You okay?" He said, once she was gone.

"Yes… I'm fine." I had calmed down, and taken as it was from Isabela, her actions were not really that unsettleing, I just suffered one to many shocks at a time.

"That's good," he replied, then got a mischievous smile on his face, "did you do anything naughty while I was away?" I put blank face on myself, and answered calmly.

"have you ever known me to do anything naughty, ever?"

"'s a good point." His look turned… well, a serious as his face can get, I believe. "While I have your attention, I have to tell you, I am going to be away for a couple of days, will you be alright by yourself." This, in and of itself, was not uncommon, but something about his demeanor told me this was different.

"More business?" I asked, careful to sound neutral.

"Of a sort, yeah. Got a friend who's going to help me with some things. You'll be safe, stay away from the Templar while I am gone?" His whole air changed to concern, and I was a bit miffed that he would lecture me on this.

"I won't interavt with them anymore than usual." I said, stiffly. It was weird, now that I was with Hawke, I felt I could act and say things that I would have died of embarrassment or shame had I said the before. He caught the tone, and still made me feel bad about it.

"Sorry, Merrill, I know your careful, but, now that your up here, people look at us differently. Many of the nobles aren't happy with you being allowed free reign because you "getting stuffed by the champion."" He shook his head, and seem…embarrassed! That was something I had never seen before. "these stuffy bastards certainly don't want to treat you, or any other elves as more than slaves, much less equals, and they would love to find out you're an apostate, just to spite me." I was properly subdued, and he hadn't even spoke forcfully.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Hawke, I'll be extra careful while you're away." He reached over and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, hugging me in close and kissing my forehead, making me feel stupid for feeling stupid. Maybe that doesn't make sense to _you_, but that's the best I can describe it.

"I know you will, and let me just say, Maker help the Order if they did do anything to harm you." Here, I again was reminded another reason I loved Hawke. I really believe he would tear apart the Order if anything did happen. Again, I promised myself, I would continue to work to earn this loyalty from him.

After that, he gathered up his armor, a glorious set of black steel plate that was custom made for him as a gift from the nobles after his defeat of the Arishok in single combat. It was wondrous, all hard angles, sharp ridges and points. It was the kind of gear that would intimidate you just by being there, and it suited Hawke. He then slipped on is cloak, and left, leaving me with several days to myself. I think it's a good time to get back to work on the Eluvian.

()

**End 7**

**Alright, that you all again, especially AlmostInsane for prereads. And, though I missed the name, and am to lazy to dig on down to the reviews, to thee one that said I made your morning better: it may ot be the reason I dump this onto the interweb, (it's because I need to get it out before it gets homocidal) it makes it all worth it. And I am not just saying that, for hearing it made my day a little better to.**


	9. Pariah 8

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

"**Now, most of the time we'd have too much to drink, and we'd laugh at the stars and we'd share everything. Too dumb to notice and too young to care, love was a story that couldn't compare. I said "Girl can I tell you a wonderful thing? I made you a present with paper and string. Open with care now, I'm asking you please, you know that I love you, will you marry me?" Now son, I'm only telling you this because life, can do terrible things. You'll learn one day, and I'll hope and I'll pray, that god, shows you differently…**

**She said… "Boy, can I tell you a terrible thing, it seems that I'm sick, and I've only got weeks… please don't be sad now, I really believe, you were the greatest, thing, that ever happened to me."**

**- Mayday Parade, **_**Terrible Things**_** Verse 2.**

**Pariah 8**

I was Arrested! Oh Creators, how do I always managed to get myself into these situations.

It was not 3 hours after Hawke left that I was walking around the High town market, finally beginning to feel as if I was fitting in. That is why I did not realize that the person making the rude call was talking to me.

"Oi! Elf!" I turned and looked at the man, who was clearly angry. It was a town guard, his buddy, who looked tired, moved forward. The lead looked mad, and had his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Yes?" I asked, trying to sound calm while my nerves jangled.

"Where'd you lift that finery elf?" I had no idea what he was talking, and stated it.

"Excuse me?" I thought I had said it with puzzlement, but the reddening of his face made me wonder.

"That finery, who'd you steal it from?" I figured out that he was talking my new clothes.

"These clothes?" I asked, "They are mine." He seemed surprised.

"No elf could afford something like that. You steal it from your employer?" I was still confused.

"No." I wanted to clear the confusion, and get on my way. "Hawke gave them to me…" I cast around for the right word, but I think I picked the wrong one. " I am his Mistress." He looked disgusted and shook his head.

"Bleeding nobles, sullying themselves on the help staff, 'nuff to make a man sick."

After this point, the conversation was no longer…coherent. A few minutes later I stared dazedly at a pair of wrist irons securing my arms as the Guard led me away. Then, they actually THREW me into a jail cell.

So, for three hours, I sat on a wooden cot, with my wrists shackled, willing myself not to cry. I did well, not even a sniffle. I was halfway through another "what the hell have I gotten myself into?" session, when a familiar voice brought me out of it and looking up.

"What are _you_ doing in here?" It was Aveline! And…she looked disapproving. Well, more than usual anyway.

"…I…I honestly don't know." It all came out on the tail of a breath, and seemed a bit hoarse to my ears. She huffed, and then walked away, and my spirits sank even lower. I could hear her talk to the jail guard.

"Why is that elf in cell number 4?" she asked the guard on duty.

"Guardsman Randolph brought her in on charges of burglery, public whoring, and disrespecting a guard." He answered tersley.

"Really?" she replied contemplatively. "you were on duty with him, if I recall. Run me through it." He the provided and rather factual, if uncolored account of what happened. She was quiet for a minute.

"Guardsman Godric, in your opinion, does the elf deserve to be locked up?

"If the explanation of where she acquired those clothes is factual, then no. I do not."

"Believe me, I happen to be familiar with Serah Hawke, and do, in fact, know that the finery was gifted to her. She is his Lady, not Mistress, and hails from the Dalish encampment that was outside of the city. As you are no doubt aware, they are not altogether familiar with our words. Release her and send her on her way, I need to go and have a word with Ser Randolph."

Aveline walked past my cell without so much as a glance and the guardman followed shortly, releasing me.

"Sorry for the mix up, Ma'am, but you would no doubt be surprised by the number of elf criminals we get in 'ere, trying to use a made up status as a nobleman's Mistress to avoid trouble." He hitched the keys back to belt. "To avoid this type of incidence in the future, it would be best if you were to identify yourself as "The Lady of the House of Hawke," Or just "Lady Hawke." He held out his arm in the direction of the exit. I thanked him for the advice, and made my way home, panic over, and lost in thought.

Would it be appropriate to call myself Lady Hawke? Don't you have to get Married to be a "Lady?" (Sigh) I hope nothing else frightening happens while Hawke is away.

(-)

Hawke's back. It's not good. He was brought in by two men I do not recognize late last night. He is terribly sick, and has been sequestered in room with nothing but a pail of water, and a slop bucket. The men told me nothing outside of the fact that he would recover in a few days, and to "let him alone until he recovered, wench!" I am sure that if I was not so concered I would be angry. His veins are all standing out, and he's so pale… I'm staying at the Alienage hovel, and Bodahn will fetch me when he recovers enough to hold solids down. At least working on the Elivian will help keep me distracted for the time being.

What have you gotten yourself into Now, Hawke?

..

**Micro update, long time coming, sorry a lot, phokes…er Folks. Progressivly, Reach, Gears Beta, Reach, Modern warfare 2, and L.A. Noire and…damn it, ****ing MapleStory have gotten in the way and completely killed my buzz on this. Like, you don't even know. And before I can get re invested, I have to play through it again, because…well, I've plain forgot what happens, detail wise. And, before that, I have to shore myself up to go through Origins, again. Ugh, I hate the Circle of Magi in that game, serious, it's breaking my balls.**

**So, my plan is to hit a few small, periodic updates here and there, just of whatever the hell I can make up on the spot. Got a work break at the end of june, before the Big Launches are fully under way, (Don't expect anything the Week of Duke Nukem) but the last in game part is the next BIG chunk, so, I'll see if I can get to the game in my week off, unless I can afford Red Faction: Arrmagedon. Magnet gun = HOURS of wasted time tearing stuff down. OH! And Portal 2 ate 3 days of Awesome in there, too.**

**Thanks for the Patronage…**

…**Management.**


	10. Pariah 9 and The Tale of the Warden

Dragon Age 2: Pariah

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age …anything, and then some.

**Probably spelled some name's and places wrong, so have mercy, please. Just finished Origins, Awakening, and Witchhunt for my cannon Dual Wield Warrior Warden, and set up for after Dragon age 2 will probably involve this back story crap, so, ... sorry, I guess. Oh, and Apostitiutes.**

**Pariah 9**

Aveline stopped by the Hovel while I was working during Hawke's first day of being down. Whatever this illness is, it must be bad. I have seen him take jabs and cuts to most of his torso with little to no mention of discomfort. At most I've seen him knocked down. Over 9 years I have never seen him downed like this. I… I don't like it. But I am getting of topic. I let her in, and she thankfully declined my offer of hospitality.

"Sorry, but I cannot stay long, I just wanted to talk briefly." I was surprised she had shown up, and nodded so that she would continue. She seemed slightly embarrassed. "I may have seemed…slightly… cold yesterday. I wish to apologize, and explain. The Templar under Meredith are looking for any opportunity to replace the guard with her own personally loyal troops. As a known associate of Meredith's largest threat, I am under extreme scrutiny for any signs of behavior that are, too their eyes, unbecoming of a guard Captain. If I had simply had you released, being that you are the Champion's "Companion" it could have started some line investigation on me and favoritism. So, I am sorry, Merrill." I accepted her apology, and she left. That was nice of her.

(*)

I went to the Hanged Man last night, because a Templar was staying at the estate watching over Hawke. I chose not to stick around, just to be safe, even though he seemed perfectly friendly, because Hawke was out cold, so I saw no point in sticking around. Varric and Isabella weren't there, so I nursed a ale for an hour before retiring.

(*)

I went and visited Hawke again today, and he was awake and a little bit around. Bodahn let me in, and informed me that Hawke was aware, but week, and that his Templar friend had stepped out. I thanked him and moved to the bedroom, where he was sitting up, reading a book. He looked up and smiled.

"Hello, Merrill, it's nice to see you." He slowly rose, and walked over giving me a hug.

"Your looking well, Hawke." I said. He snorted.

"I look like a walking corpse. But, I do appreciate the sentiment." He smiled again, and looked pained.

"How was your trip?" He looked confused for a second and then brightened.

"Oh, yes, it went about as well as could be expected, although getting sick was a little…less then ideal. Oh, but I did bring back a souvenir or two…" He moved behind me to a large covered object leaning against the wall. He carefully unhooked the cloth covering the object and pulled it free, revealing a painted portrait about 3 feet tall and two feet wide. I must have gone pale, and I felt myself nearly faint as I looked upon the subject of the portrait. Thank the creators the light was bad, because Hawke did not notice that I was upset. It was them, the man and woman I had seen in my dreams, the woman's yellow cat like eyes gleaming even on the canvas. I managed to re-swallow my heart.

"Who, "I cleared my throat in an attempt to banish the hoarseness that had crept in, "who are they?" He looked astonished, and replied in disbelief.

"Really? That is the Warden Commander who slew the Arch Demon and ended the Blight, and his consort, the swamp witch Morrigan." He paced his hand on the frame, and looked at the figures on the painting. "This is one of a kind, commissioned by the warden on the eve of the final march into Denerim by the best artists in Redcliff." The conversation tapered off after that, as Hawke grew tired, and the Templar returned. He introduced me to him, his name was Ser Victor, and he was a Knight from the Ferelden Chantry. Hawke assured me that I had no need to worry, as this knight was aware of the great efforts made by apostates during the blight, and their role in ending it. But, you spend your whole life avoiding something, and it is easier to continue than to accept.

(*)

I went again to the Hanged Man tonight, this time purposely searching for Varric.

"What can I do for you tonight, Daisy?" He asked as I sat at his table and signaled the waitress. It was customary, now, that anyone petitioning Varric for a story pay not in coin, but in ale. As she approached, I placed a Sovereign and hand full of silver on her try before hooking my thumb at Varric. He raised his eyebrow at me. "what's this then?" He had made it clear that I need not obey his "drinking for Tales" policy, but tonight, I wanted straight facts.

"Varric, I want the tale of the Warden, everything." I like to think I came across as serious, but I doubt I did. He smiled again, and began the tale. I have recorded as much of it as I could.

(*)

_The warden responsible for ending the blight, and reshaping the country of Ferelden, started his life as a Noble on the Arl of Highever. As the younger son of the Cousland family, when the call came out to send troops to Ostagar to support the king, he was to be left to tend the land, while his father and brother went to war. The head of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, a man know to legend only as Duncan, happened to be in the Arl in search of new recruits to combat the growing hoards of Darkspawn._

_As fate would have it, the Arl of Amaranthine, the treacherous Rendon Howe, convinced the Wardens father to send the bulk of his forces marching, with the excuse of waiting for is own troops to catch up. That very night, Howe's men descended upon Highever, the resulting slaughter claming all the lives shy of the Warden, his faithful hound, and the Warden Duncan. The Warden traveled with Duncan to Ostagar, where, aided by the Ex-Templar Alistair, passed the Joining and became a full fledged Grey Warden._

_Now, there are several remarkable things that marked this Warden and followed him everywhere he went. One was that everywhere he went, death and dismay were already being inflicted, or would follow. Most of the people around him would die, and he would emerge barely scathed. Some attribute this to his tremendous will, and others, including one of his close followers, believed him to be a tool of the Maker. All that is known is that whatever he touched was changed, and others took to his example as if taking on water._

_The battle of Ostagar was, in the words of most, a terrible failure. It was not found out until after the Blight, that this was due to the War Hero Logain, General to the king, fleeing with his troops at the signal that was supposed tell his men to charge in and flank the engaging Darkspawn. With out the reinforcements, the troops were overrun, and the everyone was slaughted, and again, only the Warden, his hound, and his companion Alistair lived. _

_The Warden awoke to find himself in the hut of the swamp witch, Flemeth, who, for reasons unknown reasons had saved the two, now the last two Wardens in Ferelden, and sent them off to fight the blight with her beautiful and talented daughter, Morrigan. Now, You may recognize Flemeth as the same woman you magic-ed in on top of the mountain when you first met Hawke. This does, by all accounts, seem to be the same Flemeth that appears in all of the ancient tales that bear woman of the same name._

_After the disembarked form the hut, they arrived in a small village, Lottering, or Hawke's home town, as you may recall. It was here that the group found that Logain had retreated to Denerim, and blamed the Grey Wardens for the King's death at Ostagar. After stocking supplies, and joining company with an red haired Bard, the set out to procure an army to fight the blight, while Logain's men hunted them as traitor._

_The cleaned a cursed Forest of werewolves, securing the help of the Dalish, crowned a new Dwarven King in subterranean Orzamar, flushed a demon infestation that almost destroyed the Circle of Magi, and saved the Arl of Redcliff from dire illness by finding the urn of Andraste's ashes. The Warden even slew Morrigan's mother, the ancient shape shifter, although we know how much good that appears to have done. Finally, they had a force that could challenge Logain's claims on the throne, the Warden Alistair being an illegitimate son of the king. So the Arl of Redcliff called the Landsmeet, and they marched on Denerim. The Warden had not been within the city a single week before he avenged the death of his family, slaying Rendon Howe, getting thrown in to prison, breaking out, and busting up a Tevinter slaving ring within the Alienage. At the Landsmeet, he gained popular support by his word alone, and had Ser Logain renounced by his fellow Nobles, where upon he was executed by Alistair for his crimes. Based off some wrong intelligence, they marched back to Redcliff, where it appeared the bulk of the hoard would strike._

_Now, many story tellers tend to… overlook the importance that the swamp witch had to the Warden. Now, we all know, see as Fereldan isn't a land of solid Darkspawn now, that the Warden defeated the blight by slaying the Arch Demon. But, he was the first Warden to do so, and live. Now, I first heard the tale from a retelling of the story directly from on of the Wardens traveling companions, and according to her, it was Morrigan who prevented that death. But that is not just what I mean when I suggest her role was very significant._

_You see, the Warden was taken with her, and the tales of her striking beauty live little wonder of why. The Warden took her to bed not long after their journey begun, as she was one who took delight in the pleasures of the flesh of those she found worthy. But, as a daughter of the mythical Flemeth, she was incapable of the strong emotion not based in the physical sense. The lay together many times, her never feeling more that a physical attachment to the man. The Warden, however, would not be contented with the mere body of the woman. One of his greatest, and most helpful abilities was a near telepathic ability to judge the motivations and desires of people. E would ply her with gifts perfectly suited to her personality, challenge her where she wanted a fight, and relent without seeming to have let her win. He was confident that he was gaining ground in opening the girls closed heart when he encountered a problem. One night soon before the Lands meet, she snapped at him when he went to lay with her, and remained stand-offish on the subject for the weeks remaining until the horde would be engaged._

_The night before the march on the besieged, he sat by the fire working his problems over in his mind, and was approached by the Orlesian bard._

"_Worrying over the battle tomorrow?" She asked, sitting near him, by the fire._

"_No, he said, turning to her, a sad smile across his rugged face, the scars of battle shining clearly. "Nothing that simple, I am still trying to figure how I upset Morrigan so." She looked faintly surprised at these words, as she knew they were genuine, herself having formed a close relationship with the Warden during their travels._

"_The eve of the biggest battle of our time, and you aren't working out your strategy?" She quired._

"_Nope," he replied casually, "already got that figured out. This," he picked up his wicked hooked left hand sword, "is going into the Arch Demon's right eye, and this, "he lifted the dragon bone right hand sword, "is going through his lower jaw, and out his crown."_

_That segment of the story is one of the best looks into the personality of the Warden, retaining levity and concern for others on the eve of almost certain annihilation. It also show just how tremendous the will of the Warden was, for that night he discovered what it was that had upset his female. He had shown her love, and it had frightened her. She denied him of the physical relationship, think that it would serve to spurn his affections. With the battle looming, she joined him for one night as his lover, and not his consort. They arrived in Denerim while the city burned, and lead by the Warden, rallied the surviving defenders and carved a bloody swath through the horde to the roof of Fort Drakon and the Arch Demon. The Warden slew it, and the remaining Darkspawn fled into the waiting dwarves back down in the Deep Roads._

_Long story short, Alistair was crowned king, the Warden was named Commander of the Grey. Morrigan disappeared, the Bard went to Orlais, the Dwarf joined the army, the Qunari returned to Par Vollen, and the Elf assassin went his own way._

_From there, the Warden went to the Arling of Amaranthine to rebuild the Ferelden Order of Grey Wardens. What he found when arrived was army of Darkspawn led by a speaking one. In fact, the whole area was plagued with intelligent Darkspawn. It is unknown exactly what happened, as the Arling was soon under full assault and much was destroyed. The Warden himself defended the city of Amaranthine, while his other Wardens held the Vigil's Keep. Now here is where the legend starts to get weird Daisy, because the most prevalent tales say that there were actually two warring tribes of Darkspawn. It is said that one group was just trying to protect their race, and wanted to end the slaughter caused by the blight as much as the humans. it is also said that the Warden assisted this Darkspawn, and allowed him to take his troops back under ground after slaughtering his competition. It is even stated that he befriended Nathaniel Howe, the son of the murderer of his family, and helped him regain the honor of his family._

_After securing the situation and rebuilding the city, the Warden disappeared, and no one has seen or heard from him since. The most plausible possibility, in my opinion, is that he went searching for his missing love, and something happened along the way, but I may just like storys that have that kind of beautiful tragedy to them._

_(*)_

The story itself was a lot longer than I wrote down, but it was already late into the night, when Varric finished, and I fell asleep before I could record it while it was fresh.

This does help add a little understanding to the images in my dreams, although it adds new questions.

Why am I dreaming of real people, even before I knew who they were? Who is the child, and why does it morph into a Dragon? Why do I see them only in the Eluvian inside of the dream?

I just need to apply myself, and fix the damn thing, and see where it goes from there!

**End part 9**


	11. Pariah 10

**Dragon Age 2: Pariah**

_**I Do Not own the Rights to Dragon age, and long odds on me owning 'em to anything else you may recognize.**_

**Pariah 10**

Again, I find that wine is only my friend until morning comes. Let me back it up a bit. Last night, Hawke, having finally recovered from his mystery illness (now, no longer a mystery, but more on that later!) asked me if I would attend dinner with his Templar friend. He swore up and down that the Templar was an old friend, and that short of lighting him on fire, that I was clear of danger. I like to think I reluctantly agreed, but I doubt it came across that way. He said he wanted it to be a semi-formal dinner, (he told me later that night, in bed that he wanted to show me off, and fairly started glowing with happiness at that!) and handed me a purse of coins and told me to take out Orana out a get us both nice new dresses for the evening.

Hmm… I just checked back, and I see I have not mentioned Orana before. Truth is, she is so quiet and usually out the the way she was rather easy to forget. A while back, Hawke was helping Fenris with something, and truthfully, I just got tired of his issues with me and asked to be excused from outings with him. But, after this one, Hawke came home with a slave! An Elf slave! I was… reasonably contrite (nearly hysterical, I was told later) about it. It took Hawke quite a while to talk me around to the facts of the matter.

It is hard for us who have not been slaves to understand what it is like to be a slave. There is a saying, among those who work to help slaves without masters. "You cannot free a slave, they must free themselves." And, I so much as I have seen, it is true. Hawke had an almost instinctual grasp of this principle, and rather than send the master-less girl out alone to get raped or murdered, he instead gave her a spot, and a salary in his household, turning her from slave to servant. He continually asked her questions, urged her to try things, and requested suggestions, all while paying her based on the merit of her services, which were very good. It had taken many, many months for even the simplest response of self from her, but she began to understand that she could own things, and the concept of money.

I suppose the overall goal was to prep her for transfer as a well recommended, adjusted free citizen servant to another Noble house when the notion that she was no longer a slave had replaced, or at least suppressed the canalization of the slave, and he judged this as another step in the process. So I took her, making clear that outside the house that I was "Merrill," or "Lady Hawke," (been years, but I still like the sound and feel of that) and was not her Mistress, but just someone she knew as an acquaintance, or even a friend. Sadly, I do not think she grasped it, but she took it as orders, and did not appear as anything other than a peer whilst we were out.

I am very pleased with the garment I chose (ok, That Orana said looked best. I took her unsolicited advice to heart and was not disappointed. Say what you will, but the girl has taste.) and the reaction from Hawke and his friend did not disappoint. It was a dark, forest-y green, with the actual dress portion shot through with silver and gold where the ruffles of its pleating dropped, looking solid green when stationary, but shimmering when disturbed by my legs. It was backless to the waist, had a high, choker like neck piece of silk, and was paneled in the front showing bare collar skin an just a hint of cleavage, (if any were to be had…). Orana went with a simple navy blue dress, but allowed me to flair it up with accessories. She may be good at dressing others, but she could not yet dress herself for anything outside of work. The dinner went well, with a lot of talk of the situation in Ferelden, and the unnecessary abuse Meredith put the Circle Mages through. It was toward the end of the meal, when Hawke turned to me with a look of aprhension.

"Merrill, I am sure you have been wondering about my illness, and the extended visit of my friend here." He gestured, and I nodded, dabbing my mouth with a napkin. "Well, as you know, things in Kirkwall are…not good. More and more Mages are turning, and demons seem to be attacking us two or three times a week." I raised an eyebrow but waited for him to continue. "Well, to make a long story short, I have under gone a few of the processes that the Templar undergo to combat the powers of hostile magic. Errik had been helping me to hone and develop these skills, and I now possess some of the resistances, and skills of a Templar Knight." He waited, looking… unsure as he waited for me to respond.

"What does this mean for me?" I asked, think I had star=ted the question wrong, but Hawke got the gist of it, as hhe took my hand in a way that said that he was not sure that I would let him.

"Merrill," his eyes met mine, "I love you and I trust you, and do not worry about you. I have know Mages my whole life, and indeed seem to have a family affinity for magic. But I worry about what is happening in the city, and want to be able to best protect you, and the others I care about." I squeezed his hand back.

"I have no doubts about your motives, dear." In fact, this was actually a good thing, because I was at an impasse with the Voided mirror, and might need some help if it came to what I thought I had to do. "and if I were to fall to a demon, I would rather have you, whom I trust and I love, to be better able to free me from that horror." Neither of us said more, as it was not needed. "But what does this have to do with your illness?" I did not ask why a Fereldan Templar had to do the training, as Meredith would not let one of her own do this to her principle opposition. Errik answered.

"He had a bad reaction to the Lyrium. Never seen one like it, 'sides the hole in 'is head he seems to be making out ok.

Bodahn brought out more wine, and we talked on lighter subjects while Hawke kept pushing Orana and Errik into anything he could. I thought, for a moment he might be trying to get these two together, but it was not my place to speculate, so I kept quiet and continued intaking spirits.

**End Pariah 10**

**Short, but something, eh?**


	12. Pariah 11

**Dragon Age 2: Pariah**

_**I Do Not own the Rights to Dragon age, and long odds on me owning 'em to anything else you may recognize.**_

**Pariah 12**

_Cassandra finished her remaining patrol of the campsite yawning, and looking forward to herher evening. The nightly duty of Watch fell to all in small, mostly uneventful shifts, but with the world in the state it was in, it did not pay to take chances, especially in the Dales. Her Relief caught her and released her, and she ambled slowly to her tent, eager to shed her heavy steel armor, and relaz on her uncomfortable cot. 5 minutes later, and 65 pounds lighter, she tugged her night cloths into place, and folded herself beneath her linen sheet and wool blanket. Settling into as comfortable position as she could, she pulled the little folding table closer, and focused the tin plate behind the candle to better light her area. Then, as was her habit, she pulled out the leather bound book she had been reading in her spare time the last month or so, and opened to her saved page. She was, however, to be disappointed in tonight, for a handful of pages had been ripped out, and a not was threaded into the binding, written in the strangly neat penmanship of the Dwarf who had given her the book._

"_Hey, Seeker,_

_ Sorry, but I owe Daisy this much. This is the part of the story where her Keeper got killed, and I am afraid your just going to have to go by my version of what happened. Or, if you do find her, you can ask her yourself, but it is not my place to let ANYONE who she did not personally want to have it, see what her internalized reactions to her exile from the Dalish in the period before Hawke brought her out of it. Let me just tell you what I told Hawke all those years ago in the pub, and that is that this little girl is packing a lot of big, bad things around in her heart, and more than a little crazy. Heh, all Hawke said was, "When has crazy ever been a turn off for me?" Either way we certainly managed to find enough to keep him happy. Hell, in one letter he told me he finally managed a trip to the beach, and sure enough, he was chased off by a armada of demon pirate, poor bastard. Anyway, sorry again for the omission, but like Bianca, some stories aren't meant to be told. Best of luck, Varric."_

_ Cassandra took a second to look at her feelings, and found she was ok, as she herself had a few skeletons in her own wardrobe that she tried her best to forget. It was a personal enough thing that she was okay with being left out, and flipped past the note to the next entry, as she was approaching the end final year the Champion spent in Kirkwall. The page started mid entry._

(*)

… showed up for what must have been the fourth time this week, and with his help, I worked through enough of my own grief that I could leave the bedroom. I had smashed the damned Eluvian two days prior, and Hawke had taken the pieces home to Sandal to dispose of. The whole damned time the thing was just a gate to the cell of a demon. And not just a regular demon, but something worse, that even the Keeper… didn't understand, other than it's bad intent. I have recorded a fairly accurate sketch of the idol it was imprisoned in, and if the opportunity arises, I will research what it was to the best extent possible. Overall, my obsessing days are done, I've lost to much, hurt to many others. After a long, deep period of self reflection, I feel as if I am a new person. Well, I am, sort of. I am a city Elf now, as I have no clan among the Dales. But I doubt as to a demons ability to tempt me anymore, as all I desire is the chance to spend the remainder of Hawke's life spent with him, in whatever pursuits he wishes. I told him as much, and he seemed more anxious that anything.

(*) We were at home today, when Hawke just looked over, like an odd idea had taken him, and asked, "Merrill, would you like to get married?" I was shocked, and mush have conveyed it non verbally. But I thought about it, and after a minute said, "Sure, I think I would like being Lady Hawke in Ernest." We discussed it, and as neither of us were big Chantry attendees, we just put it on recored, and avoided ceremony, as neither had family around, but we did celebrate later with our friends. Varric was quick to point out my rapid change.

"it's pretty spectacular Daisy," he said with his "4 drinks in" grin, "in just one week, you've transitioned from Dalish Elf, to city Elf, to Human Noble." He waved his hand grandly, "I don't think anyone has ever done that before." As far as I know, he was correct, and I really do like being "Lady Hawke," and having family again.

(*)

Hawke… he… I guess you could say… unburdened? himself to me, but not nearly all, but I think he does not know what it is that causes his worry. I have a theory that he does not function on rational thought, but rather an instinctually response to subtle clues that he does not know he picks up. He talked on how bad the situation was in Kirkwall, and how he reflectes on the words of the Witch Flemeth often. He put me to work studying different skills, potion making, herbalism, poison making, and even some minor points in smithing and kit repair. That's why it's been almost two months since I have had a chance to update this. Actually, it's the first night I've not been working until I could no longer read due to exhaustion. Hawke had been outstandingly busy as well, preventing an all out war between Meredith and Orsino. It is actually odd, for each has asked us for a favor that you would expect the other to have been dealing with. Meredith had us tracking down, non-lethally, if you can believe it, and stopping blood mages the First Enchanter.

Well, after all of the chaos, Hawke decided we should have a night off, to try and wind down. He settled on The Hanged Man, and we spent most of the night there. It was nice seeing most everyone when we weren't working. About 5 hours in, I was just to the point of intoxication where I am still coherent, but my inhibitions are lower. At this point Hawke had left with Varric for…some reason or another, but I was beyond the point of caring. Anders was passed out, his head on the table, Aveline was sitting with her husband, and Fenris was in the back, nursing a mug an watching everyone at once. Isabela was sitting on a table, legs crossed, swing a mug and starting another of her slurred, delightfully filthy pirate songs. Luckily for me, I was just blitzed enough to join in. She smiled and reached out a hand, pulling me up to sit next to her before throwing her arm around my shoulder as she swayed to her own haphazard tune.

"Oy, y'all blighters." She roared, gesturing grandly with the mug and her free hand, her words slightly blurred, "this… this here id Kitten… _MY_ Kitten…" that was when I started to realize just how drunk Isabela was, as her eyes kept flicking around, dark rings beneath, and her breath stronger than the drink in her mug. Had I been straight, I would have not approached her while she was so loaded, as she has a slight tendency to get frisky when this many shades to the wind. But, as I myself was fairly buzzed, I did not pull away but instead I put my own arm on her shoulders and gave her a slight hug. She laughed her laugh that signaled a challenge, and continued her rant. "no-not only is she my Kitten, but also the proud bride of none other than our ve *hiccup* very own Ser Hawke, Champion of Kr*hic* Kirk*Hic*… Kirk. Wall." She swallowed, and before I knew what was happening, she s swiveled on her ass, grabbed the back of my head, and kissed me, full in the mouth. I was too startled to do anything, and then she pulled back and announced in oddly scintillating volumes. "But she was mine first!" She then gave a small push to the small of my back. "now, bugger off dear, mommy's got work to do." As I raised to my feet, hopping of the bench and to floor, she… she SLAPPED MY ASS! I "epped," grabbed my stinging rear, and moved quickly away as Isabela grabbed another shot, and those surrounding her cheered. I left before anyone culd say anything.

By the (_the word Maker was crossed out)_ Creators how is it still after 7 years that Isabela can fluster me like this?

(*) I told Hawke about what happened in the bar the other night, and he merely chuckled. "I Think Varric is the only one Isabela hasn't managed to catch like that when she is _that_ drunk." I have come to the conclusion that Hawke was surprised that it just recently happened.

**End Pariah 12.**


	13. Pariah 12

**Dragon Age 2: Pariah**

_**I Do Not own the Rights to Dragon age, and long odds on me owning 'em to anything else you may recognize.**_

**Pariah 12**

I thought I would be scared, but I am not. Things came to a head so quickly, we didn't really have much of a choice but to get swept along and hold on.

I suppose the events that led to this point tended to involve assassins. Hawke seems to attract quite a number of assassins, both hostile and not as much. The first involved the former.

(…)

Hawke was working with me in several areas every available moment when his business did not occupy him. I am still, and suspect always will be impressed with his vitality. He works constantly, and whenever he is not, he is teaching me… I would have to call it self reliance. But even that does not fully work. I… I do not think he plans to stay in Kirkwall for much longer. A lot he is teaching me is not necessary for a life in Kirkwall, plus he is spreading out his assets and building contacts.

He is teaching me, or getting someone who was accomplished in a field to teach me several things. All Dalish born elves know how to hunt and survive off the land, mage or no, so I feel I eased his burden a bit there. A refined lady taught me how to behave in as a human noblewoman in a Free Marches court, a Ferelden Court, as well as one of Orlais. I worked with city elves until I could blend in as naturally in an alienage as I could in the Dales. My Tattooing had worried me, but appearance, outside of the general shabbiness that poverty brings is not what marks them, so it was not a problem at all.

To my mixed joy and discomfort, I was even set up with Isabella for her to teach me to behave as a Courtesan. She says that a female who is properly skilled in the art of seduction can free things from men that even the loosest of purse strings cannot. Aveline says that basically she was teaching me to be a whore, but I do not think that is quite accurate, from my understanding of the word. But human's language is oft confusing like that. The same word can have several meanings, based on a number of different things, like people, time, and some many others, I don't even bother to try and figure out they are. Varric says that if I spend enough time just speaking with people, I will either get it naturally, or he will keep a "nice safe space for her to quietly go to pieces." I am not sure what exactly that means, but he sounded friendly when he said it, so I like to think it was nice.

I am not sure that what Isabella does is an "art," per se, but if it is, she is an artist. After a solid month of watching her, I still cannot tell when she is merely stringing along a mark, and when she is genuine in her purpose. She says that is the mark of a great seductress, but Varric says it's because she is always genuine in her purpose, she just sometimes wants' something else as well.

Initially, I was worried that I was not properly…equipped, for such a line of work, but Isabella was quick to dismiss my doubts.

"Teasing whatever it is you want out of a person has very little to do with you're physical assets, kitten." She said. "Now, I am not saying a generous rack and some slutty clothing are not helpful, but they are just a few tools in a large box. Attitude, the way you talk, the set of your shoulders, how tall you appear to be, what is _his_ mood like, what are his taste, etcetera, are far more important than the size of your boobs." She explained that while a show of skin could help fast track the process, the far more important thing was to "read" the other person, and be exactly what they desired at the moment. It was hard to grasp at first, as Isabella seems to do it so naturally, but by the end of my second month of spending nights working with, watching, and being watched by her, I was fairly good at snaring a man and pulling what I needed from him without him realizing that was what I was doing. I do not know what his aim was in having me study in all of these and more areas, but I trust in his judgment.

I sometimes wonder if this makes me weak woman, to have so much reliance on a man. But there is just something about him, like he is the focal point of something big, which makes me want to follow him. Then I realize that I am thinking like a human, and banish the thought.

On one of the rare days when he was not busy, and I was not interred in some study or work of my own, we were strolling though the Kirkwall streets, no destination in mind, just meandering, when we were jumped by a group of about a dozen Carta thugs. I think I got killed as many as Hawke. Or rather, I would have, had one not only been stunned when I slammed him into the wall, instead of crushed as I had intended. This had not been the first or even fifth time this had happened to Hawke, but the first while I was with him. He rushed to me, scooped me up in a hug, and then dragged our new friend for a little questions session with Isabella. He had not been able to capture one alive before. I opted out of that one; I had seen enough of her methods during my tutelage to have an idea of what was going to happen.

After an hour or so, he returned home, telling me that the thugs were after Hawke's blood, though he could not even begin to guess as to why, and that they were at a base in the Vimmark Mountains.

So we went to find out why they wanted it, and dissuade them from persisting if Hawke found their cause less than agreeable. (Kill them all, as it turned out. As it sadly seems to always turn out.) It was doubly sad as they were not even their own masters, but slaves to a corruption we had never encountered before, and I would hope never to encounter again. But I do not honestly expect that I shall be so lucky. After wading through the Carta thugs, we found the source of our problems lay within an ancient Grey Warden prison. I will not go into detail about what we encountered on our trek to the summit of the prison, as it was business as usual for our group. Possessed dwarves, darkspawn, creatures of the fade, and a handful of insane individuals.

Atop the tower, we encountered the reason we had traveled to the awful place. It was a talking darkspawn, but I feel as if it is different from the one the Hero of Ferelden encountered. It seemed confused, at first; as if it was unaware it was a darkspawn. From the things it was saying, it appeared to think it was a Tevinter Magister from the Imperium back before the time of the first Blight. Now, here is the strangest part. If this darkspawn is to be believed, not only was it a Magister, but also one of the very first darkspawn. By it's admission, it was one of the Magister's that entered the fade and sought out the Golden City, like in the stories the Chantry is founded upon. Something he said here peeked my interest, and I will need to conduct studies into the subject if I can. In his mutterings to himself, he said that something to the effect of that they were promised a gold city, but it was black.

To finish this entry, he attacked, and we defeated him, and this potentially killed one of the original darkspawn, and Hawke learned a little more about where he comes from.

(…)

After we returned to Kirkwall, we enjoyed a period of boring routine for a few days. Well, there was a small event with an Elven assassin who also happened to be a Qunari, but besides discovering that the dragon kin known as Wyverns also share their brethrens interest in the taste of me, not much of interest happened.

But during this period, where I was too busy focusing on my own work to pay much attention to the atmosphere around the city, tensions between the Mages and Templar had grown worse than ever. I found out later that Hawke had been running odd jobs trying to lessen tensions between Orsino and Meredith. But the forces under each were active outside their influence.

I discovered this out first hand as I was out walking to the market one day, when I was jumped by a mix of templar and circle mages. I like to believe I gave a fair accounting for myself, but in the numbers I was attacked in, I could not have won. I am slightly thankful, however, that they were looking to take me alive, and use me as leverage to get Hawke to support their revolt. Had I known this, I would have not worried at all, as no one who attempts to use Hawke for their schemes without his consent ever gets what they are after directly, and while I was still not sure of the extent of his devotion to me, I knew none of those involved would be happy with the result. So next thing I know, I wake up, just having been freed of some Blood magic, and no worse off for the ware.

But this conspiring between Templar and blood mages was the final piece needed to topple Meridith's sense and cause her to call for all out war on the Circle. We of course found ourselves allied with the mages, as they only wished to be allowed to live their lives without the constant threat of being murdered. Chaos erupted in the city, as mages, pushed to the edge as Templar swept through and slaughtered every mage they could, looked to the demons they feared to save them, and becoming abominations. The fighting in the street was not as bad as it could have been, seeing as it was mostly just scared people, not a focused assault. We made it to High town without much trouble, and as a pleasant surprise, we met with Bethany, who had come with a few fellow wardens to assist. Once there, we found Orsino and Meredith were arguing, trying to end the hostilities, but neither willing to compromise. Hawke had started getting them calmed down when the worst thing that could have happened…happened.

I may not live to see the conclusion of these events, but if I do, I swear to the Creators, or the Maker, or whoever, that the history books shall show that it was one lone mage, acting alone and in HIS OWN interest that started this. Anders did something, and eradicated the entire chantry, along with the Grand Cleric, who was the one person who could have prevented this situation from escalating. Meridtith backed down, and allowed the mages to regroup before she would resume attacking.

I had never seen Hawke as mad as he was then. He raged at Anders, who flatly refused to acknowledge the truth of what he had done. He actually wanted t be killed, I believe, thinking it would help him. But Hawke, while in a fury, still controlled himself. His voice dropped low and full of grit. He told him that when he was finished sorting out this mess, Ander would be making amends to the chantry, and if there was even one small bit of unacceptable behavior from him, Hawke would enter the fade and "tranquilize" Anders himself. Shortly after, when we were in council with Orsino, he lost it. Orsino, who fear all was already lost, resorted to blood magic of a terrible degree of evil in it's origin. He fused with several of his students, coverting him into a terrible beast. I know not what magic he invoked, but I did feel its filthy touch as it tried to absorb me. It was like a dozen dirty hands grabbing me and trying to tug on me and draw me to it. Ugh, even the memory feels dirty, tainted. We disposed of this new abomination, noting the irony that was forced upon us.

Now here I sit, penning this while we wait for Meridith to make her move. I hope we can avoid a fight, but for those mages left who have done nothing wrong, we shall defend at all costs. Hawke was adamant about this. The threat of danger that the mages possessed did not justify the harsh measures imposed upon them. A check system to limit the damage, of course, but not the complete and involuntarily enacted tyranny that was imposed. Alas, now seems the time we are to move. I hope to update this after whatever it that happen comes to pass, but if I or any of my friends do not survive, I leave this here, in the broke circle of Magi in Kirkwall, so that there be at least one true first hand accounting of these incidents, if it ever be found.

An now my love is beckoning for us, and I mustn't dally, for I refuse to not be at the Champion of Krikwall in what could be our final time, be it good or bad.

May the Creators and Maker look over us all.

**End 13.**

** Well, I suppose that about does it. There is a chance I might add a little epilogue with the Seeker, but if I do, it won't be much.**

**Anyway, thank you to all of those of you who read this, more thanks to those who reviewed, and especially those who said something nice. This is where I call it, and nove to other pastures. So, thanks again, and maybe I'll see you again at Dragon Age 3.**


	14. Epilogue

**Dragon Age 2: Pariah**

_**I Do Not own the Rights to Dragon age, and long odds on me owning 'em to anything else you may recognize.**_

**Pariah 14**

_Cassandra flipped the page of the final entry, and much to her disappointment, the following page was blank. For the weeks she had read the small books, she had hoped that in it she would find a clue as to what to do next. The more accounts she heard from the epicenter of the war, the more it did seem as if it were the templar to blame, aside from the mage and idol's influence. She sighed, and flipped another page, and found a folded piece of paper. As she tried to remove it, she found it was affixed with a thin sheet of wax. Scrawled lightly on it were a few words._

"_If you've finished…"_

_She slid her finger around to break the seal, and found one last note from the dwarf._

"_As you can no doubt tell, if you actually read this, Seeker, I was not entirely truthful when I said I did not know anything more of the Hawkes. See, funny part about it is, word on the street says the Chantry is calling in all its chips and is going to bring out everything it's got to crush this, and anyone against it. Now, the sources involved lead me to believe this._

_Now, I hope you will excuse the fact that the way you hauled me in seemed to confirm this story. But I am giving you a chance here, because I believe you are on the side of the good, rather than the side of the church. When the two went to Tevinter, Daisy learned some stuff, about remote transcription. Basically, she copied her diary magically a few times, and asked me to spread them around for when the book burning comes. Now, each of these enchanted tomes will record whatever it is she transcribes in her master copy. So, if you wish to see more, just rub the front of this paper on the following pages to reveal the texts I had hidden, up to the last time she wrote._

_Good luck, Seeker._

_Varric._


End file.
